Loving Harry
by sierendipity
Summary: Snap shots of Ginny's experience loving the boy who lived. Chronicled from age ten to sixteen, set to songs of all types with lyrics that I hope you'll take the time to read. A million thanks to all those who take the time to follow, favorite and review!
1. Ten

**Beautiful Eyes**

_Your beautiful eyes_

_Stare right into my eyes._

_And sometimes I think of you late at night_

_I don't know why_

_I want to be somewhere where you are._

_- Taylor Swift_

Harry Potter. He was nothing like she imagined. He was unremarkable, first of all. Just a boy – barely older than she was, skinny as a string bean, insecure and clearly lost. Harry Potter – _Harry Potter_ – was a name spoken with reverence and awe that she'd heard her whole life. She pictured someone strong, intimidating – dangerous, maybe – but skinny? Wearing oversized clothes and poorly mended glasses?

And those eyes.

Her heart sped up just thinking about them. Underneath the ridiculous mop of hair and the terrified expression, those eyes were the most piercing shade of green she'd ever seen. Before she even knew his name, he'd glanced at her and given her the funniest feeling in the center of her chest. And when Fred and George announced to everyone that he was Harry Potter, she begged her mum for a closer look.

Not because he was Harry Potter, but because she wanted that feeling in her chest back. She wanted it always. And she wished, lying in bed that night, that she could do anything other than relive the brief moment his eyes had met hers.

When Ron's letters arrived – infrequent as they were – she found herself riveted by any mention of him. She dreamt of long summers with Harry Potter (because Harry felt strange, still) and late night chats at the Burrow. She would show him their gardens and the pond nearby and the clearing they played Quidditch in.

Then, next year, they would return to Hogwarts together. She could see him _every day_ if she liked.

Ginny sighed. She unfolded her last letter from Ron and reread it. She skimmed the parts about the obnoxious girl, Hermione, and the ghastly potions teacher, and reread her favorite part –

"Harry's muggle relatives are barmy – I reckon he should come stay with us next summer. You'll love him, Gin. His humor reminds me of you sometimes."

It was a delicious picture. Ginny smiled, closed her eyes, and promptly fell asleep.

**Things I'll Never Say**

_I stutter, I stumble - _

_Like I've got nothing to say._

_I'm feeling nervous_

_Trying to be so perfect_

_Cause I know you're worth it._

_- Avril Lavigne_

Ginny yawned and wondered what woke her up.

_Crash!_

She rolled her eyes and silently cursed whoever'd made mum angry. Molly only ever clattered around the kitchen this violently when someone did something truly out of line. Normally, it was the twins.

She stretched, pulled on her dressing gown, and padded slowly down the stairs.

"Don't know _what_ you were thinking of! Never would have believed it!"

Heavy silence followed each of her mum's outbursts.

"I don't blame _you_ dear. Arthur and I have been worried about you, too."

Her next words were lost in the clamor of pots and pans, but Ginny's curiosity was piqued. Who would have been part of something that angered Molly but still escaped her wrath?

"…illegal car halfway across the country – anyone could have seen you!"

Ginny gasped. What in Merlin's name could she be talking about?

"It was _cloudy_, Mum!"

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!"

"They were starving him, Mum!"

This was a scene straight out of a bizarre dream she might have. The twins took the car? And _flew it_?

"And you!"

Ginny rounded the corner and shrieked. Harry Potter – green eyes, tousled hair and all – sat innocently at her kitchen table.

In the next instant, she dove back behind the wall.

Her heart raced as her brain tried to process everything she'd just seen and heard. And now she'd made a complete arse of herself! She pressed her ear to the wall as she heard her name in Ron's low murmur.

All she could make out, however, was "Ginny … sister … all summer."

She'd heard enough and, blushing furiously, she fled to her room. By the time she slammed her door shut, the tears overflowed. Couldn't they at least given her some warning? She supposed he'd stay the rest of the summer – ruddy _perfect_ – her birthday was in a week and a half. Yesterday, she would have said that Harry Potter's presence in her home would have been the perfect birthday present. Now, however, it was clear that it was going to be a disaster.

It took over an hour for Ginny to pluck up the courage to face the world again. Then, she had to wait for mum's screaming to subside – poor dad – before she could emerge. She hoped her mum would wrap it up soon – she was starving. She ducked into a third landing room with the most honest mirror in the house, which told her that she looked lovely and barely splotchy at all. "Barely splotchy" was just going to have to do – her stomach groaned loudly.

"I'm going to talk to him. He's just a boy. He's just another of Ron's stupid friends. I'm going to talk to him."

"If you say so, dearie."

Ginny glared at the mirror. "You don't believe me? Just wait. I'm not some stupid, moon eyed pansy. I'm not afraid of a boy. Even Harry Potter."

Resolve heightened, she spun on her heel and marched to the door. She swung it open, and her eyes fell on a mess of black hair and startling green eyes.

Before she could stop it, her arm slammed the door shut, and she collapsed against the back of it, mortified.

"Ginny … you don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally."

Ginny heard Ron's words through the wood and they did nothing to help. She put her head in her lap, moaned, and then made herself feel a bit better by picturing the various ways in which she could persuade the twins to hex Ron.

"Cheer up, love. At least this time you didn't shriek at the boy."

She looked up at the mirror – way too honest, now that she thought about it – and wondered how she might turn herself invisible so she could sneak down to the kitchen for some food.


	2. Eleven

**Unwell**

_Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown, and I don't know why_

_But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell. _

_I know, right now you can't tell. _

_But stay awhile and maybe they you will see_

_A different side of me_

_I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired. _

_I know, right now you don't care. _

_But soon enough you're gonna think of me _

_And how I used to be - me._

_- Matchbox 20_

Ginny stared with empty eyes at the wall next to her four poster. Hogwarts was supposed to be wonderful. No, forget wonderful – she would have settled for bearable.

She didn't expect Harry or Ron to pay her much attention – but an occasional acknowledgement would be nice. They were too busy, however, with their best friend Hermione. They couldn't be bothered, even, to show up to her sorting or even offer her congratulations.

Still, she never expected the twins to be so inattentive. They were always her best friends in the family – her partners in crime. And since she'd been here, they'd hardly glanced in her direction.

Then, of course, there was Percy, who was entirely _too_ concerned about everything. Did she go to bed on time? Was she struggling in her classes? Did she promptly do her homework?

Speaking of homework, no, she had not done it. She rolled over and eyed her stack of books. Something strange caught her eye – of all the sparkling copies Harry had given her, one small, black book did not seem to fit in. She reached over and pulled it into bed with her.

The minute the leather touched her fingers, a small surge of something seemed to channel into her hands. Small letters spelled out "T.M. Riddle," on the front. She flipped open to the first page and found that it was empty. She frowned, confused. How had this gotten here? It was clearly a diary, but there was no writing in it.

Intrigued, she retrieved a quill pen and ink from her side table and opened to the front page. She'd long since wanted a diary, and the distressed leather, not to mention the mysterious appearance of it, all seemed a bit romantic to her.

She began to scrawl the date in the top left corner of the diary, and gasped. The ink disappeared as quickly as she wrote. Excited now, she tried again.

_Dear diary,_

But, just as the numbers had, her words disappeared. She was at a loss for what to do and wished she knew more magic. Her dad would have been able to figure it out.

Still, unable to do anything else, she tried writing one more time.

_I was sorted into Gryffindor today. _

Suddenly, different letters appeared, in sophisticated calligraphy.

_**Where did you find this book?**_

Ginny squeaked and nearly threw it away. Some strange force kept her from following through on the urge, however. Instead, she raised the quill again and, with only a small tremor of fear, wrote,

_Who is this?_

It was barely a moment before –

_**Tom Riddle, the owner of this diary. **_

_Who are you? I found it among my belongings. _

_**I am someone long since gone. Who are you?**_

_If you're gone, how can you be talking to me?_

_**Magic, of course. Who are you?**_

The thought of what her dad might say if he knew she was about to reveal herself to a strange, inanimate object lingered in the back of her mind. But it was only a silly diary – probably some echo of a memory charm preserved like the voices in their mirrors at home. There couldn't be any real harm in it.

_My name is Ginny._

_**Do you know Harry Potter?**_

Her heart dropped. How could it know? Still, the allure of discussing the boy in question was stronger than her qualms. Whoever this Tom Riddle was, he didn't seem likely to tease her, at least.

Steeling herself, she freshened her quill and touched it to the page.

_Yes._

Weeks passed, but Ginny was mostly unaware. Days were a blur of shuffling to classes and writing to Tom. She stopped eating or speaking to anyone else – anyone except Percy, who pestered her incessantly until she caved and took some pepper up potion just to get him off her back.

Romilda Vane told her she looked peaked. Fred called her the Grey Lady. Ron gave her nervous looks every now and again. But none of them really cared – none of them cared like Tom did.

_Harry ignored me again today._

_**He is a fool, then.**_

Ginny beamed. No one ever said things like that to her.

_He's too good for me._

_**No one is too good for you unless you allow them to be.**_

And on and on. He understood her, listened to her, responded to her and never made her feel like a foolish child. Occasionally she thought he was angry with her, but he insisted it was just the way he spoke. She hated the feeling she got when that happened.

One day, Tom offered to share some of his secrets with her. Excited and a bit nervous, she agreed.

_**When I was your age, no one understood or cared about me, either.**_

_I can't imagine that._

_**It's the truth. They weren't like you and I.**_

_How's that?_

_**Strong. Brilliant. Powerful.**_

A thrill of pleasure shot down Ginny's spine.

_So what happened?_

_**I proved them wrong. **_

_How?_

_**I can't tell you that yet, but I can help you do the same.**_

_How?_

_**Tell me you want my help.**_

Ginny's fingers trembled. She so desperately wanted to prove everyone wrong, but there was a warning shiver at the back of her neck whispering that she may be in over her head.

_I want your help, Tom. Please._

Ginny woke, trembling, on the floor of her dormitory. Her mouth felt thick with cotton and her eyelids were heavy. She sat up, hand to her head, and gasped. She was covered in feathers, and she smelled of something distinctly outdoors. She plucked one off her front and shivered to see red at the tip of it.

Out of habit, she scanned the room for the diary.

_Dear Tom, I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over me and I don't know how they got there. _

_**Well, what can you remember last?**_

_Erm … I'm not sure. Maybe asking you to help me?_

_**I'm unsure of what you mean.**_

_Don't you remember? You offered to help me show them who I was._

_**Hm. I don't have any recollection of it, I'm afraid. **_

Ginny clutched her head as it began to throb.

_Maybe I'm just mental._

_**No. You're perfectly sane. **_

_How do you know?_

_**Because I know you. **_

However, his words didn't fill her with the usual thrill. She sighed and shut the diary for the night, then snuck into the bathroom to shower. Nothing was right. Nothing in the world.

After the strange period of blacking out, things were different. There seemed to be a weight always pressing on her brain. She often felt sick, and, as October passed in a haze, she felt no sense of excitement for the feast that had captivated the rest of the school's attention.

She woke up to a headache worse than all the others Halloween morning, and not even a smile from Harry at breakfast did anything to cheer her. By the time the great feast was supposed to start, she was on her way to her dormitories, barely able to see.

Ginny blinked, blearily taking in her surroundings. Once again, she lay on the floor of her dormitory.

"Couldn't even make it to the bed," she sighed, and sat up. Her stomach dropped – she was covered in blood. She was about to open her mouth and shriek for help, but she noticed the blood looked strange. She held two fingers to her nose and raised her eyebrows, surprised. It was red paint.

"How…?"

She glanced around the room and, after making sure Romilda was nowhere nearby, snuck to the bathroom once more to clean herself off. She made a mental note to ask Percy how to magically clean robes and tried to forget that she was covered in red paint and didn't know why.

The next morning, Ginny was on her way to class when something stopped her in her tracks.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE, scrawled across the wall in a vivid red that was disturbingly familiar.

When, at breakfast, Ron, Harry and Hermione filled her in on what had become of Mrs. Norris, Ginny trembled. What was happening to her?

That night, Tom offered little comfort.

_**A cat was attacked? Good riddance. They're useless creatures.**_

_Tom! I was covered in paint and there was a painted message on the wall in the same red paint!_

_**I'm sure it was only a Halloween prank pulled by some moronic students. Surely they splashed you with some paint and then performed a memory charm so you'd forget it was them.**_

_The message was about the Chamber of Secrets._

_**The Chamber of Secrets is nothing more than folklore. I'm sure it was only children trying to create a Halloween scandal.**_

Ginny wasn't so sure.

The next time she woke on the dormitory floor, Romilda stood over her.

"Are you ill?"

Ginny blinked.

"No, I … erm … was just tired." She scrambled to her feet, surreptitiously glancing down her front to make sure there were no feathers or drops of paint as she did. Ginny was down the stairs before Vane could pester her any more. However, as she neared the entrance to the common room, she thought she might be ill after all. Just out of her view, she heard Ron and Hermione speaking in low voices.

"The one that loves Harry?"

"Yes – the Creevey boy was petrified."

"Blimey … reckon Harry knows yet?"

"He's in the hospital wing – I'm sure he's heard the news with Colin lying right next to him."

Ginny shook like a leaf. What a horrible week it turned out to be – first Harry and the bludger, and now this? Of course she'd blacked out and now someone else had been attacked!

She spent the rest of November and beginning of December terrified, avoiding Fred and George at all costs, who'd taken to pranking her in an effort to cheer her up. They didn't understand. No one could cheer her up – no one understood what was happening to her, she was sure, and she wasn't about to voice her concerns to someone at Hogwarts. Next thing she knew, she'd be labeled as the heir of Slytherin and sent to Azkaban.

She shuddered.

Then again, maybe if she was caught, everyone would leave Harry alone. She knew it wasn't him, even if a large majority of the students seemed to think it was; she wished she could tell him that. She wished she could say even one word to him without blushing and stuttering.

Tom was as supportive and sympathetic as ever, but the creeping, nervous feeling every time she touched the diary grew stronger each day. She brushed away the concern at the back of her head reminding her that the timing of all of it – her black outs, the attacks, and the diary – were all too in line to be coincidence. She _needed_ Tom, especially now, when she had no one else. Worst of all, Percy was beginning to suspect her.

_I don't know what to do, Tom. _

_**Not this again. I'm sure it's all coincidence.**_

_I keep blacking out when attacks happen!_

_**Yes, I know. But you're too kind. You're the kindest person I've ever known. **_

Ginny rolled her eyes. By now, his ill timed compliments only annoyed her.

_Maybe I used to be._

She closed the diary with a snap.

December's attack was the worst. Justin Finch-Fletchley was bad enough, but Nick? A _ghost_? Ginny didn't come out of the dormitory for nearly twenty four hours after she heard. All she could do was cry. She hated herself for it – before last summer and this year, she hardly ever cried. And now it was all she could do. She resisted the urge to write to Tom for the better part of the day, but she was so alone.

_There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do?_

_**Nothing – you have nothing to do with the attacks.**_

_How do you know? Tom, I think I'm going mad._

_**Nonsense! I have known those who have lost their mind, and you are not one of them.**_

_How can you be sure? I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!_

_**Now you're just being ridiculous. What could you have possibly done to a ghost?**_

He raised a good point. In fact, that made her feel loads better. Even if she had gone insane, she hardly thought she had any power against someone who was already dead. Then, a thought made her stop cold.

_How did you know a ghost was attacked?_

_**Maybe you **_**are**_** losing your memory – you mentioned it earlier.**_

Ginny may not have been able to see anything she'd written anymore, but she was quite positive that she hadn't disclosed any specifics about the attack.

_No Tom – I never did._

_**Of course you did. How else could I have known?**_

She didn't say anything after that. The nagging against Tom got stronger, but the strange pressure on her brain only worsened, until it was a fight to care about anything at all, let alone the possible danger of her only friend at Hogwarts.

Still, she resisted. Talk of the Chamber of Secrets did not dissipate. It was the only topic that could hold her focus for any amount of time. She was so weak from not eating and so sick from her constant headache that, for the most part, she was completely apart from all conversations. Until, one day, she opened the diary for her usual game of resist, and saw something that, considering how she felt now, was nothing short of disturbing.

_**Hello, Ginny. Avoiding me again?**_

Tom never had, in the whole time writing him, written her first. He was never aware of her presence unless she made it known.

_**Why haven't you spoken to me?**_

Her heart raced but, still, she refused to reply.

_**Honestly, Ginny, I know you're there. Please talk to me. I miss you. **_

"I can't," she whispered, horrified.

_**Please don't leave me, too. You're the only one who understands who I really am.**_

He was vocalizing the thoughts that had been plaguing her all year.

_**I know you wish you knew about me, and you will, but you have to trust me.**_

"No!"

_**I understand you must be nervous, but you're my only friend. The truest friend I've ever had. I need you. **_

Was he reading her mind? Everything he wrote was exactly why it was so difficult for her to stop speaking to him.

_**Don't you trust me? I thought you needed me, too! Please, talk to me. Tell me about Harry Potter. Has he spoken to you since he got out of the hospital wing?**_

_Why do you care so much about him anyway?_

No! The moment the words left her quill, she regretted them. Something about Harry could always break her.

_**I only care about what you do.**_

She wouldn't cave again.

_**Don't be like this. Please. **_

"No, Tom," she whispered, and shut the book with a thud of finality. The next day, she skipped her last class with no qualms – she missed an increasing amount of class lately – and ducked into the second floor girls' room that she knew no one used anymore.

"Goodbye, Tom," she murmured, and moved to throw it. Her fingers trembled, extended above her head, unwilling to part with it.

"Goodbye_. Goodbye!_ GOODBYE!" her words ended in a shriek, and with a last burst of strength and will, she hurled the diary and ran back through the door, down the halls, into the Gryffindor common room, to her dormitory, collapsed on the floor, and wept until the morning came.

**You were there**

_You were everything I'd never seen_

_You woke me up from this long_

_And empty sleep_

_I was alone_

_I opened my eyes_

_And you were there _

_- Southern Sons_

This time, when Ginny woke, she wasn't in her dormitory. She blinked and clutched her head. Pain pulsed through it, pain so white hot that it nearly blinded her. Where _was_ she?

Through the haze, she recognized the floor beneath her as stone. It was slightly wet, and, with effort, she lifted her head. She was in a large chamber of some sort.

"You've done well, Ginevra."

Startled at the voice, Ginny jerked her head far too quickly in its direction.

"What ...?" the voice emanated from a very familiar diary in the far corner.

"You've done well."

The voice grew stronger.

"What … where? Who?"

"Me. This diary."

Slowly, a strange mist grew and solidified above the book.

"Who are you?" she groaned, taking in the hazy figure before her. "Where am I?"

"It's me. Tom."

She froze. "_Tom_? But – but what're you doungh," she trailed off as a wave of nausea hit her harder than any previously. She curled into a fetal position.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you must be confused. Tom Riddle – your trusted confidant – was supposed to be safely contained in the pages of his diary! Well, you silly, foolish girl, didn't your father ever tell you never to trust something that had intelligence from an unknown source?"

Silly? Foolish? This couldn't be Tom. And yet, somehow, she wasn't surprised. She was afraid now – more afraid than she'd ever been in her life – and didn't answer.

"Yes. Of course he did. No matter – you did exactly as I wanted you to."  
>Her eyes must have been questioning enough, because he chuckled darkly and said, "You killed the chickens threatening my basilisk."<p>

"Your…?"

"Basilisk, yes. I don't believe you've met." A horrible hissing noise emanated from the back of his throat, and then came a hideous, thunderous clamor that filled her skull and the chamber around her.

"Don't look now, Miss Weasley, for its gaze will end your life. Too soon for me to sap the remaining energy I need from you."

Next to her, she saw the gigantic body of some serpentine like creature slithering into view. She would have screamed if she'd had energy to do so, instead she only curled as tightly into herself as she could.

"You set it on Mrs. Norris and wrote the message on the wall –" She shook her head in horror and denial, even as he spoke truths she knew deep down to be true "–you made it attack the filthy Finch-Fletchley boy and, of course, the mudblood Granger girl."

"No!"

He continued as if she had not spoken. "You may even have enjoyed that one – Potter pays her oh _so_ much attention, doesn't he?"

"_No!_"

"Yes, Miss Weasley! Yes of course, you stupid girl!"

She couldn't breathe or think – she was so confused, so tired, so afraid.

"But _why_?"

"Because the basilisk's long standing task has been the cleansing of Hogwarts – the wiping out of the entire mudblood population here! Filthy, tainted – the school is better off without them."

"You're the heir of Slytherin?"

"Yes."

"But … you were so kind."

"Don't you understand? I was only kind with one intention! I was only ever trying to become close to one person!"

Ginny didn't speak.

"You can't guess who? You can't guess which person may have drawn my attention? The one person who ever thwarted me, the one person who everyone else thinks is powerful enough to carry out MY work, the one person you can't seem to _stop talking about?_"

"Not Harry!" she gasped, and nearly hurled with the effort.

"Of _course_ Potter! Don't you know who I am?"

"Tom…"

"I AM LORD VOLDEMORT!"

His image grew less hazy and more terrible – moments ago he'd been a ghost of a boy, one might even call him handsome. Now, she saw him for exactly what he was – a cruel nightmare.

"No," she whimpered. "What have you done to him?"

"Nothing yet! Nothing, not until he joins us shortly. All thanks to you." He stepped slowly over to where she lay, and she recoiled. It was more of a twitch at this point. She could hardly move.

"No…"

"Yes. Coming to find _you_ to rescue _you_! Imagine the expression on his face when I tell him that you are the reason his best friend is lying, cold and lifeless in the hospital wing? That you are behind all the evil done this year! When I bring forth my basilisk, when it strikes him and I get to watch the life drain from his eyes, all as he watches the life drain from you!"

Tears poured down Ginny's cheeks, and she felt the last of her energy seeping away across the cold floor.

With everything left inside of her, she said the one thing she could muster. "He'll beat you again."

"_What_ did you say to me?"

Her eyes fluttered closed.

"I cannot wait to see you DEAD!"

The world drifted away.

"Ah – here he comes now."

With one last shudder of horror, everything went black.

Her eyes opened what seemed like three lifetimes later. She'd dreamed of a large snake and of Harry – he was horrified to see her lying at the far corner of the chamber. He loved her. Maybe? Everything was so strange.

She scanned the area around her … so it had all been real?

With effort, she sat up. Her eyes fell on a giant, scaly thing heaped in the corner, and then a boy. Covered in blood.

She gasped and tears fell as though they'd never stopped. Her relief and horror were overwhelming at the beautiful sight of the boy walking shakily towards her, holding a sword.

"Harry – oh, Harry!" his name was delicious to say, and more words poured from her mouth, her effort to explain away whatever Riddle surely had told him.

"How did you kill that – that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary –"

"It's all right. Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let's get out of here."

Ginny stared at the fang hole, but she was not convinced.

"I'm going to be expelled!" she cried, but even in her panic, something about Harry standing awkwardly by with his hand outstretched filled her with warmth she hadn't felt in months. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and – w-what'll Mum and Dad say?"

Harry's hand fell on her back and patted awkwardly. She paused in her fear to wonder why he had come alone. Percy, Fred, George, Ron – surely one of them could have come with him? But he was here. Harry had come for her.

"You're safe now, Ginny, we'll explain all about Tom and the diary, don't worry, it'll be all right. But right now, we have to move."

And for the first time in a long time, Ginny found that she could. Without hesitation or effort, she stepped forward with Harry Potter. Past the blood strewn floor, the dead basilisk – past it all, they walked, both of them very much alive.


	3. Twelve

**Take your pain away**

_I would ease the burden _

_That you carry every day. _

_Oh, don't you know I'd find a cure_

_And take your pain away_

_-Eurythmics_

"I need to talk to you in private."

Ginny knew at once that Harry, of course, was only speaking to Ron and Hermione. Which meant that she'd have to find some other nonexistent friend to sit by. She'd been looking forward to sitting with the three of them for an entire train ride all the day before.

"Go away, Ginny." Ron said, and Ginny wished for a moment that Harry might reprimand him – insist that Ginny could stay. When he didn't, she stood angrily.

"Oh that's nice." She spun on her heel and left.

Unfortunately, the twins' compartment was also full. Fred looked apologetic, but didn't protest as George shut the door in her face.

"Blasted wankers," she growled, but ruined the effect when she couldn't help but check over her shoulder to make sure her mum or Percy hadn't heard her.

Every other compartment was full, and Ginny, mortified, eventually had to ask Romilda and her giggling friends if she could sit by her.

"So you fancy _Dean_?"

Romilda flushed and shushed her friend with a significant look in Ginny's direction. "Shut _up_!"

Ginny did her best to look uninterested – it wasn't difficult.

"You won't tell him, will you?" Romilda said quietly, and it took a moment for Ginny to realize she was talking to her.

"Oh – no – I don't even know Dean."

"It's a pity!" Romilda trilled. "He's _so handsome_."

Ginny nodded like she cared at all and turned away. It was going to be a long train ride.

Hours later, she woke with a start. Rain pelted the glass next to her, and the other girls seemed nervous.

"What's the matter?" she asked with a yawn.

"The train's stopped and we don't know why."

Puzzled, Ginny sat up and pressed her nose against the glass. The rain was too thick to see anything, and the wind was too loud for her to make out any other noise.

Suddenly, all the lights went out. The girls around her let out varying degrees of shrieks, but Ginny was unafraid of the dark. She knew there had to be a logical explanation. Sighing, she stood to leave.

"Where are you going?" Romilda's voice trembled.

"I'm going to see if I can figure out what's going on."  
>"I saw Harry Potter and your brother sitting next to the new professor! Maybe he'll know."<p>

Ginny scowled. So the new professor could hear whatever Harry had to tell the other two, but she couldn't? Regardless, she'd take any excuse to get away from this compartment.

"Oh, thanks Romilda. I'll just find them, then."

Finding Ron, Harry and Hermione turned out to be more problematic than she'd first anticipated, however. In the pitch black, it was hard to make out any faces, and she didn't even know what direction they'd gone after she left.

She was just about to give up and turn around when she smacked headlong into someone in the aisle. She squeaked as a skull cracked against her jaw.

"Who's that?"

"Who's _that_?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?" she was relieved – Ron and Harry must be nearby.

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron –"

"Come in and sit down –"

Ginny felt her way into the compartment and tried to sit in the nearest seat to the door, but there was a yelp and then,

"Not here! _I'm_ here!"

Ginny's face flamed. Of _course_ she'd sit right in Harry Potter's lap. She whispered an apology and, humiliated, sat as far from Harry as she could.

"Quiet!"

They all fell silent as the professor in the corner spoke. Then, in the next moment, magical light erupted in the palm of his hand. He was tired and seemed haggard. "Stay where you are," he said, and stood.

Slowly, the door slid open. Ginny watched as a long, hooded figure entered the compartment, a skeletal hand protruding from the folds of its cloak. Whatever it was inhaled, and it sounded as though it hadn't breathed in decades.

Then, cold came. Cold so penetrating and intrusive it seeped into her pores and into her head. A headache she hadn't had since the end of last year came pulsing back, and a calm, cool voice filled her ears.

_"You've done well, Ginevra …" _She clutched herself and trembled, cowering against the window. _"Don't you know who I am? I AM LORD VOLDEMORT!"_

_No, no, no, not Harry! I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to!_

_ "You stupid, foolish girl!"_

She rocked back and forth, but forced herself to open her eyes. Everyone else seemed to be focused on something – someone else – she corrected herself, as she realized it was Harry. Her heart raced – he'd fallen to the ground, and was shaking worse than she was.

"No! Leave him alone!" she whimpered, "Leave him alone!"

Suddenly, the professor in the corner stood and, wand outstretched, faced the creature in the door.

"None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go."

They waited, but nothing happened.

The professor raised his wand, something silvery shot out of it, and the creature finally left down the hall.

Ginny turned her attention back to Harry, but couldn't move. All she wanted to do was jump up and make sure he was all right, but she was still lost in a chamber from months before, the voice of Tom Riddle telling her that it was all her fault Harry was about to die…

"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?"

Ron and Hermione knelt by his side, and Ginny breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Harry open his eyes. They helped him back onto his seat.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah – what happened? Where's that – that thing? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed."

Harry glanced around, and it was painful to meet his eyes. He didn't seem to notice.

"But I heard screaming…"

The Professor snapped a piece of something solid, and they all glanced in his direction.

"Here – eat it. It'll help."

Ginny couldn't even make herself move forward enough to see what it was.

"What was that thing?"

"A dementor. One of the dementors of Azkaban."

The man handed Ginny a piece of whatever it was, and was confused to see that it was ordinary chocolate. Still, she bit into it and felt her heart slow a bit.

He said something more to Harry and left.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?"

Ginny was glad Hermione asked – Harry looked awful. He was pale and sweaty, and still shaken.

"I don't get it … what happened?"

As Ron and Hermione recounted the story, Ginny watched him carefully. He was clearly mortified to hear his reaction, but she wished he wouldn't be. Whatever the thing was had been horrible, and she knew Harry had more horrors to torment him than the rest of them.

"It was horrible," Neville said, verbalizing her thoughts. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"I felt weird … like I'd never be cheerful again."

For some reason, the sound of her brother's voice made the knot in her throat rise, and it came out as a shrill cry. Hermione moved over and put her arm around her. Normally, Ginny would be too embarrassed and proud to allow it, but she found herself instinctively huddling closer to Hermione's warmth.

"But didn't any of you – fall off your seats?"

As bad as she still felt, Ginny felt worse for how Harry must be feeling now.

"No … Ginny was shaking like mad, though."

At Ron's words, Harry shot her a look that told her he understood exactly why she'd reacted the way she had. She hoped that her returning glance told him the same. She wished he knew just how much she understood. She wished she had been the one to fall off the bench – she deserved the humiliation and embarrassment. All he'd ever done to earn the awful mysteries that plagued him when the dementor was around was be a hero. He defeated Voldemort. She nearly brought him back.

She closed her eyes and willed everything better. For now, the little that could be done with chocolate would have to do.

**Realize**

_Take time to realize,_

_That I am on your side._

_Didn't I, didn't I tell you?_

_But I can't spell it out for you._

_No, it's never gonna be that simple._

_-Colbie Callait_

The day after Halloween the year Ginny turned ten, her mum received an owl informing her that her youngest son, Ron, and none other than Harry Potter himself had defeated a troll. Unusual as it had been, Ginny began to wonder now if that's just how Halloweens at Hogwarts were – disturbing and unusual.

Last year on Halloween, Ginny set a basilisk on a cat and painted a disturbing message on the wall, all without her knowledge. And now, she lay on the other side of Ron, who lay next to Harry, who lay next to Hermione on the floor of the Great Hall because Sirius Black broke in and tried to kill Harry Potter.

She sighed. She felt enormously jealous of Hermione and Ron. She knew Harry trusted them completely. She thought that maybe if he could just talk to her as Ginny – not as the blundering, recently possessed sister of his best mate who fancied him too much to form a coherent thought, he might want her around a little more. As it was, she had to be content with the limited time she was able to spend with him by virtue of being Ron's little sister.

Now, for instance, Harry, Hermione and Ron had pulled their sleeping bags into the far corner. It was only after Percy put the lights out that Ginny realized she was sandwiched between Colin and Dennis Creevey, _both_ of whom openly fancied her.

"Wow … this is quite a night!" Dennis murmured from one side. "It's a bit scary. If you're afraid, you can hold my hand."

Ginny cringed, glad he couldn't see her expression.

"That's sweet, Dennis, but you're right. I'm far too afraid – I'm going to find my big brother."

"No, please stay!" Colin said from her other side. "We won't let anything happen, I swear."

"I have something that I've needed to give him anyway," she insisted, and, quietly as she could, made her way over protesting, sleeping forms to the corner she'd seen the trio disappear to in the first place.

By the time she finally arrived, Ron and Hermione were both asleep. Harry sat up.

"Ginny?" he whispered.

Her heart hammered, but she found that speaking to him had grown slightly easier since last year. It was with only a small amount of effort that she said, "Hey … erm, mind if I sleep by you three?"

"No – is something the matter?"

She snorted. "Not really … Dennis Creevey was trying to hold my hand."

Harry chuckled. "At least it wasn't Colin – he's always the one following me."

"Colin was on my other side."

Harry's expression sobered.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and she let out a laugh that drew the sharp gaze of Percy, three rows of sleeping bags away.

"Don't worry about me – I made it out alive."

A strange look crossed his face, and she could tell she'd struck a chord.

"I'm glad you did," he said, and she didn't think he was referring to her Creevey situation anymore. She wished she could see his face better in the dark.

"Me too … it's all thanks to you, you know." She was talking about last year's events and Riddle's diary, but at his confused expression, she hurriedly added, "For letting me crash by you lot."

"Right – of course. Anytime."

She couldn't be sure with the lights off, but she thought his eyes might have lingered on her a little longer.

"Well … g'night, Harry."

"Good night … don't let any mass murderers bite."

The strange tension that had entered the conversation evaporated, and Ginny laughed again. "I'll manage – it's not me he's after."

Harry snorted. "Thanks for that."

"Oh, anytime."

He rolled onto his elbow. "No, I mean it. You're the only one who's not taken this whole thing so seriously."

Her breath caught in her chest for a moment, as she was struck with the realization that, for the first time in her life, she and Harry were actually having what could be considered a normal conversation. And he was thanking her. And laughing at her jokes. And sleeping mere _feet_ from her.

"Well … I mean … I can't imagine it help matters for everyone to be hovering over you like an overly concerned rain cloud." She congratulated herself on the fully formed thought.

"You sound like you have experience."

"I do."

He was silent for a moment, but she heard him inhale to speak. Just then, Ron snored loudly from between them. Both of them jumped, and Harry laughed quietly.

"Well, good night, Ginny."

She'd never loved her name quite so much.

"Good night, Harry."

She burrowed deeply into her sleeping bag, closed her eyes, and fought the remainder of the night to tame the butterflies rushing around her stomach.


	4. Thirteen

**In my life**

_Every word that he says is a dagger in me!_

_In my life_

_There's been no one like him anywhere_

_Anywhere, where he is..._

_If he asked... I'd be his_

_-Alain Boublil (Eponine)_

"Ginny!"

She turned around to see Neville panting as he jogged to catch up with her.

"Hello, Neville. What is it?"

"I just … I, er, had a question for you."

Ginny frowned, confused. They didn't have any classes together, and she hardly thought she was the person to help him with fourth year homework.

"Yes?"

"I … well … d'you think you might … want to … erm…"

Realization dawned on her, just as he finally managed to get out, "Go to Yule Ball with me?"

Her heart sank. She'd dreamed that Harry would ask her. Then again, she never actually expected that he would. And Neville was a good sort – he would be a gentleman, and she hardly thought any other older boys would ask her.

"Sure, Neville. I'd love to."

Neville was already red but, as he let out the breath he was holding, he blushed even more. His grin lit up his eyes and she was glad she'd agreed to go.

"Oh – blimey, Ginny, that's great. I'll see you then, all right?"

She smiled and nodded, and he tripped away, still beaming.

Ginny laughed a little, and turned in the direction of the common room. She wanted to find Hermione and tell her the news – Hermione was hoping Ginny would have a date and could keep an eye on things with Krum and run intervention if things seemed awkward.

"Fairy lights," she told the fat lady, and the portrait swung open to let her through.

Hermione wasn't in the common room, but Ginny figured she was at dinner and would be up shortly. She walked over to the far chair and sat down to study. Just then, the portrait hole opened again, and Ron tripped inside, looking dazed and horrified.

"Ron!"

She jumped to her feet and rushed to his side. "What is it?"

He shook his head and stumbled to the sofa.

"Ron? What's happened?"

"I … how did … I just …"

"RON! Speak in full sentences!"

She used her "Molly" tone, and he seemed to come to his senses.

"I … I just asked –" he said someone unintelligible "– to the Yule Ball."

"Who?"

He shook his head and moaned, face buried in his arms. Ginny's heart raced – what if he had asked Hermione and Hermione – after all this time hoping he would – had to turn him down?

"Fleur."

Ginny frowned. "Fleur …?"

"Delacour!"

"From Beauxbatons? As in the Beauxbatons champion?"

Ron groaned in confirmation.

"Oh … Ron."

He buried his face in his hands, and, though her first instinct was to laugh and take the mick, she bit her tongue and took the seat next to him.

"I'm sure she's forgotten all about it by now," she said, and patted his arm. "She has loads of blokes after her, they'll have distracted her."

"Tons – they were everywhere! Just staring."

She cringed as she pictured it in her mind.

"It'll be all right."

She shot a fierce stare at Lavender and Parvati who were ogling him curiously from the corner (they both looked quickly away) and then turned her attention back to Ron. "Honestly, no one's going to care about any of this by tomorrow, you'll see."

The portrait hole swung open just then, and Ginny glanced up to see Harry come in. Like she did every time he was around now, Ginny replayed some advice Hermione had given her over the summer – "Try to relax around him. Give him a chance to get to know you."

With only minor difficulty, she forced herself to remain composed.

"What's up, Ron?"

"Why did I do it? I don't know what made me do it!"

"What?"

Ginny couldn't help but find Harry's worried expression on behalf of her brother endearing.

"He – er – just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him."

She fought back a laugh as Harry's jaw fell open.

"You what?"

"I don't know what made me do it! What was I playing at? There were people – all around – I've gone mad – everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall – she was standing there talking to Diggory – sort of came over me – and I asked her!"

His next words, said into his hands, were barely understandable.

"She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then – I dunno – I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."

"She's part veela – you were right. Her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault, I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it – but she was wasting her time. He's going with Cho Chang."

Ron and Ginny looked up, Ginny with no small amount of trepidation. The snobby Ravenclaw seeker? Was he serious?

"I asked her to go with me just now. And she told me."

Ginny scowled.

"This is mad. We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone – well, except Neville. Hey – guess who he asked? Hermione!"

Of course – she wasn't even Neville's first choice. She didn't have the heart to correct them in thinking Neville was going alone.

"What?" Harry was clearly shocked.

"Yeah, I know! He told me after Potions! Said she's always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff – but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn't want to go with Neville … I mean, who would?"

Ginny felt her face flame with indignation and embarrassment. "Don't. Don't laugh."

She was dismayed to see that Harry chuckled as well.

Hermione entered, and Ginny was relieved.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?"

"Because – oh shut up laughing, you two – because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!"

The boys stopped laughing immediately, and she smirked.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny."

Ginny rolled her eyes and ignored Ron's jibe as Hermione made some scathing comment that cheered Ginny up considerably.

"Hermione, Neville's right – you are a girl."

Ginny felt like smacking her forehead. Ron was so daft.

"Oh, well spotted."

"Well – you can come with one of us!"

Hermione met Ginny's eyes, both of them distraught with understanding. Why Hermione had wanted Ron to ask her so badly was a mystery to Ginny, but it was still awful to see how trapped her friend looked now that she had already agreed to go with someone else.

"No, I can't."

"Oh come on. We need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has…"

"I can't come with you because I'm already going with someone."

Though Ron clearly couldn't see it, Ginny knew how much the words pained Hermione to say – even if she was going with an international Quidditch star.

"No, you're not! You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

Anger replaced the disappointment in Hermione's eyes. "Oh did I? Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"

Ginny's mouth fell open – Hermione was being more obvious than Ginny had ever seen her.

"Okay, okay, we know you're a girl. That do? Will you come now?"

Ginny shook her head. He was so dense.

"I've already told you! I'm going with someone else!"

She whirled on her heel and stormed off. Ginny was about to get up and follow her, when Ron said, "She's lying."

"She's not," she told him firmly.

"Who is it then?" Ron's words were sharp with something – jealousy?

Still, Ginny was too disgusted with her brother at present to do him any favors. "I'm not telling you, it's her business."

"Right … this is getting stupid. Ginny, you can go with Harry, and I'll just –"

He said the words she'd feared from the beginning – the ones saying that she could have gone with Harry after all. And she'd blown it.

"I can't!" she said, before she could lose her resolve. "I'm going with … with Neville. He asked me when Hermione said no, and I thought … well … I'm not going to be able to go otherwise, I'm not in fourth year."

Harry actually had the gumption to look disappointed that she couldn't go with him. She felt the crushing defeat of impossible dreams that came way too close to being possible after all.

"I think I'll go and have dinner."

Even as she walked away, she found herself wishing desperately that Harry might call after her, beg to turn Neville down, insist that he wanted to go with her and only her.

Then, as she reached the hall, she shook her head in deep self disgust.

"When did I become one of those girls?" she muttered to herself, and set off towards the great hall. She ignored her thoughts as they answered her question – the minute Harry Potter walked into her life.

**Say Something**

_Say something, I'm giving up on you_

_I'll be the one, if you want me to_

_Anywhere I would've followed you_

_Say something, I'm giving up on you_

_-A great big world_

"There – you're a knock out, if I do say so myself."

Hermione eyed her reflection in the mirror. "I – Merlin, Ginny … thank you."

The younger girl grinned. "Not a problem. It's not every day you go to a ball with an eighteen year old international Quidditch sensation."

Hermione sighed, and it came out all fluttery. "I'm so nervous. I don't want to do this."

"Of course you do. Besides … just wait until Ron sees you."

Hermione looked noticeably cheered by this thought. "Oh, honestly … I don't care about that."

Ginny snorted. "No, of course not. Well, you better get down there to meet him. Neville's not meeting me for a few minutes so I'm going to stay and touch up a bit more."

"Not too much – you look beautiful as you are."

Ginny shot her a smile but didn't admit that she hoped Hermione was right – and she hoped that Harry might notice.

She and Neville made their way to the hall and took seats next to Ron and Padma.

"See, as I said – Hermione's not here."

Ginny rolled her eyes – first at Ron's blatant lack of tact for his date, and second for the fact that Hermione was about to walk in the front doors on the arm of his greatest Quidditch hero, looking incredible. She couldn't wait.

The doors opened – Roger and Fleur (Ron looked slightly ill), Cho and Cedric, Harry and Parvati (Ginny was pleased to see Harry with the same pained expression Ron wore) and then, knowing who was next, she shifted her gaze to Ron as Hermione and Krum walked in.

"Who's that with …. Is that …"

His reaction was more than she could have hoped for – so much more in fact, that she actually felt a fair bit guilty. Ron looked as though someone had stuck him with the sword of Gryffindor. She'd never seen him deflate like he did now as he took in Hermione – her newly sleeked hair and form fitting robes – escorted by his favorite celebrity in the world.

"No…" he whispered. "Who does he … why?"

Padma shot him a look that was a cross between pity and annoyance.

Neville was distracted with Hermione's transformation as well, so Ginny didn't feel neglectful when she leaned forward. "Ron?"

His face didn't even seem to register that she'd spoken. "You knew."

She nodded and bit her lip. "Yes – I mean, it was her busin –"

He stood rapidly and strode away. Padma, after a confused look, followed at a slight distance. Ginny cringed to see that, as he passed the champions, he blatantly avoided looking at any of them. Hermione was clearly hurt.

"Is Ron all right?"

Ginny glanced at Neville who now looked worried. She sighed. "He'll be fine."

It was lucky that Harry and Parvati were clearly not enjoying themselves, because it made it easier to spare her attention for Ron and Padma and Hermione and Krum. She couldn't tell which emotion she was feeling the most – excitement for Hermione, who seemed to be having a wonderful time, pity for Ron, who hadn't stopped glaring at Hermione for even a moment, pity for Padma, who had to sit and watch him stare at another girl, or hope for Ron and Hermione – surely now they'd realize how mad for each other they were.

Neville turned out to be quite a pleasant partner – despite his inability to dance on the dance floor instead of her feet. He'd gaped when she'd first met him in the common room and stammered out that she looked beautiful. He was not too intense and not too dull – he occasionally made her laugh, she did the same, and the evening, for her, could even be called enjoyable.

Even her hand-me-down dress robes weren't half bad. She'd written home to tell her mum that she needed some – as a third year they hadn't been on her supplies list at the start of term – and her mum sent her back some slightly dated robes in sparkly, midnight blue with a note that said, "Worth every last cent – you'll look beautiful. Take lots of pictures."

Romilda, in a rare moment of helpfulness, offered to transfigure the waist and neck line a little to make them more contemporary and flattering. Now, against her red hair, she was quite pleased with the effect. She curled it and pinned up most of it but let some of the curls hung down her neck.

"I'm parched," she told Neville a bit later that night. "I think I'll go get some pumpkin juice."

"No – I'll get it!" he jumped up. She shrugged – not about to protest considering the current pain in her feet – and thanked him.

"Hello, mind if I sit down?"

Ginny glanced up, surprised. A handsome boy with a dimple in his chin stood awkwardly next to her.

"Erm – this seat is taken, but the one on my other side's free."

He nodded and smiled. It was rather pleasant, she decided. "Hi. My name's Michael."

"Ginny."

"Yeah – I knew – Ginny Weasley."

She raised her eyebrows.

"No – not to be creepy, you know, you're just … well …"

"A red headed Gryffindor?"

He smiled. "Exactly. You look a lot like Fred and George."

She frowned.

"I mean – except you look like a girl!"

"How dare you!"

He looked afraid, but she laughed. "I'm teasing. It's nice to meet you Michael …?"

"Corner!"

She nodded. "Nice to meet you, Michael Corner from…?"

"Erm … London?"

"I meant your house."

"Oh! Of course – Ravenclaw."

She smiled, but could see Neville coming back through the crowd. "There's my date now," she told him, and he nodded and left.

She didn't think about him again for a long time. Not until early February one Hogsmeade weekend. Ginny, Fred and George walked along the cobbled streets on the way to Zonko's. They had planned a brilliant prank for Lee's birthday and needed supplies. Ginny glanced over her shoulder in time to see Harry gazing off into the distance with a moony look on his face. She followed his stare and then scowled to see that he watched Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory.

"I think I'll nip into the three Broomsticks and meet you two after," she said, wanting to be alone for the moment. The twins shrugged and left her. She sighed and made her way to the pub by herself. She sat at an empty table near the back and waited for Rosmerta to take her order. Just then, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked in behind a vaguely familiar boy. She sat up straight, sure that the three of them would come to sit by her. However, they didn't see her and took a table recently vacated three booths away. Ginny sighed.

"Excuse me, is this table taken?"

The familiar boy stood next to her, smiling a pleasant smile she could finally place.

"Michael – Corner, right?"

He smiled. "You remembered."

"Of course – you're welcome to sit here."

She was genuinely glad for it, but she couldn't help but shoot Harry an occasional side long glance. She wanted him to look up and notice her with Michael – she wanted to see a hint of jealousy in his eyes. She wished he would feel something – anything for her.

"You know, I've been hoping to run into you since the Yule Ball."

Ginny was surprised – was she daft enough to have missed an undertone of some sort of romantic perusal?

"Oh you – er – you have?"

"Yeah … I mean, I'm not trying to be sappy, but you were the most beautiful girl there by a landslide."

It was sappy, but she found she didn't mind. She flushed a deep red – she was not used to boys complimenting her. Or noticing her at all, for that matter. She still managed to reply cheekily.

"Well, as long as you noticed my looks, what else matters?"

"Nothing," he said seriously, and then they both laughed. Ginny was pleasantly surprised – he, at least, had a sense of humor.

She spared one more glance in Harry's direction. He caught her eye and nodded, but it was without real emotion. He didn't even seem to notice that she sat with a boy.

Hurt, Ginny turned firmly away from him.

"Well, you're not too bad yourself."

Michael grinned, and she decided she could get used to it.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she liked how Michael had been the one to approach her, how he looked at her like she was Ginny the beautiful girl at the ball – not Ginny the pesky kid sister. She liked that he occasionally glanced at her lips and she most of all liked how easy it was to form coherent thoughts around him.

She had no future with Harry – he'd made that clear. So why shouldn't she enjoy the attention and company of a nice, handsome gentleman who actually wanted her? Why shouldn't she move on from a boy who never showed the slightest romantic inclination towards her?

They spent the rest of the day together, laughing and talking. It was nice, pleasant and perfectly fine. And when he grabbed her hand on the way back to the castle, she caught one more sight of an unruly head of black hair in front of her, and determinedly laced her fingers through Michael's.

_Goodbye, Harry._


	5. Fourteen

**A little too not over you**

_Tell me why you're so hard to forget_

_Don't remind me, I'm not over it_

_Tell me why I can't seem to face the truth_

_I'm just a little too not over you_

_-David Archuleta_

_Dear Michael,_

_ I'm glad to hear your summer is going well. I miss you too – everyone in this bloody house treats me like child. But oh well. As the youngest girl of six boys, it's unavoidable. How is your mum doing? _

_Yours,_

_Ginny_

Ginny found Errol downstairs. She fed him extra food and water since any flight now could be his last, and tied her note to his leg. "The usual," she told him, and had to admit she quite liked having a "usual" to send letters to.

However, something kept her from telling anyone else about it. Besides Hermione – she was the obvious exception. Hermione was the only one who took the time to confide anything in Ginny, including everything that happened in the Order meeting Ginny wasn't allowed at. She and the twins teamed up a lot in their attempts to bug the meetings and prank Snape, but they weren't exactly the first people she would choose to share her infatuations with.

"Ginny! Ginny, these drapes haven't been dusted like I asked!"

Ginny sighed.

"Coming, Mum!"

She hopped off the bed and made her way to the fourth floor bedroom, which was the one her mum had asked her earlier to clean. She had only been at it for a moment when the door opened again and Harry stepped inside.

It was interesting, she thought, to be around him now. So many things had changed – something, first of all, about his face after he'd crashed to the ground with a murdered Cedric Diggory haunted her. It made Harry infinitely less intimidating. It made him more real to her somehow. More human. She found herself able to enjoy his friendship without any of her previous insecurities. This was good and bad – good, because she no longer appeared a spluttering fool each time she saw him, bad because this new found facet of their relationship deepened the care she had for him by a thousand times. Most of what she felt for Harry before was a powerful, invasive infatuation and curiosity. It was superficial; now, her feelings for him were deeper and founded in real experience. It was dangerous, especially considering the second thing that had changed drastically – now she had a boyfriend.

"Oh, hullo, Harry."

"She set you on drape duty?"

Ginny laughed. "Afraid so."

"She must have forgotten, because after she had Ron start on the first floor tapestries, the twins on the exterior walls and Hermione on the dishes, she sent me up here to do the drapes."

"Oh I _hate_ it when she separates everyone. Merlin forbid we get cleaning done and enjoy ourselves at the same time."

"Well at least you're here – you haven't done the left drapes, have you?"

Ginny was surprised – she hadn't expected him to stick around and help if she already had it taken care of.

"No – you can go ahead and do those ones," she said, and he joined her.

"So … is this mostly what you guys were doing before I came, too?"

She looked over at him and smirked. "I'm afraid so. Although, since you've been here, everyone in the Order seems to think that it's all right to tell everyone but me what's going on."

Harry looked guilty. "Right … sorry about all that…"

"Not at all – Hermione tells me everything that goes on anyways."

He looked as though he'd never considered the possibility that Ginny and Hermione had a relationship deeper than sharing a room to sleep in.

"Oh – right, of course. I'm glad."

She smiled again. "So am I. She's good to have around."

"Definitely."

They worked in companionable silence for awhile longer, until the drapes were finished.

"Well … I guess I better go find Ron and Hermione."

She nodded. "Steer clear of mum, though, or she'll have you scouring the banister before you can say, 'dust.'"

"I will." He shot her a last grin and left her alone.

Ginny sighed and stayed in the empty room for a bit longer.

Suddenly, something tapped on the window. Ginny glanced up and there was Errol, clutching a note in his claws. She opened it.

_**Gin,**_

_** Mum's doing well. This place is really empty without you here – It's strange to go from seeing each other every day to not seeing you for months on end. Do you think maybe we could set up a visit? Maybe you could come stay with me for a couple weeks?**_

_**Michael**_

Ginny didn't even think twice about her reply.

_Dear Michael,_

_ I wish I could – everything here is crazy, though, I'm so sorry! I'll see you when term starts and explain everything._

_Ginny_

Errol was off before she even thought about what he'd asked. Was it really impossible that they might be able to see each other, or was it that she didn't want to? No … she _did_ miss Michael. She just didn't miss him enough to miss someone else …

"Pull yourself together," she snapped, and put her face in her hands.

By September, Ginny was much better at ignoring any emotions she might feel for Harry. Not that she admitted to herself that they were there.

She and Michael were happy. He was handsome, charming, kind and intelligent. They never ran out of things to talk about – or _do_, she thought wryly. He called her love and she quite liked it. She only ever called him his name, and he liked that as well.

Near the beginning of October, she was about to go sit by him at the Ravenclaw table during breakfast when Hermione grabbed her arm. "Do you have a minute?"

Ginny agreed and motioned to Michael that she would be just a moment. Hermione pulled her behind a pillar outside the great hall doors.

"What is it?"

"Harry's agreed to start a defense against the dark arts club and he's going to teach us because Umbridge won't and I wondered if you wanted to join up."

She said this all in one breath, but Ginny got the gist. "Blimey, really? That's great. 'Course I'll join! And I think Michael will if I do."

Hermione nodded, satisfied. "Spread the word to people who might be interested. We're meeting at the Hog's Head this Hogsmeade weekend."

When D.A. meetings started, it brought back everything about Hogwarts that Ginny had missed. Laughter, actual spell work – a challenge. She was endlessly grateful that Michael had agreed to do it with her – it would have been terribly lonely without him.

"Honestly, Michael, you can't disarm a _girl_?" she teased, and dodged the jet of light that shot at her.

He raised his wand to try again.

A familiar voice came from just behind her. "Wait … I'm confused. Show me once more?"

Ginny's wand soared from her fingers as she got distracted by Cho Chang beaming sappily at Harry.

"Got you!" Michael cried, and Ginny shook herself.

"Lucky shot," she retorted, but it was half hearted. Michael rolled his eyes fondly at her and stepped over to kiss her cheek. She wriggled out of his grasp and, when he looked hurt, explained, "Not with my brother here – I like you too much to have him off you just yet."

He smiled, and his dimples showed.

She felt a hot surge of guilt – she hadn't let him kiss her because she felt dishonest. How could she pretend to enjoy it when she couldn't keep her eyes off of Harry and another girl?

"Well this is touching, Weasley – if I didn't know any better I'd think you've grown to care about my well being."

She grinned. "Don't flatter yourself, Corner. I just need a dueling partner."

Later that night, she sat in the common room by herself, drawing, until Hermione joined her by the fire.

"You and Michael seem really happy."

Ginny glanced up at her and smiled. "Yeah – yeah, we are."

"And … erm … what about Harry?"

Ginny shot her a sharp look. "What _about_ Harry?"

"Well it's just that … I mean, I saw you watching him and Cho today. It's all right if you're not completely over him, you know."

Ginny sighed. "Of course I am."

Hermione smiled sadly and nodded. "Of course you are, sorry, just thought I'd ask."

"What about _Ron_?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to look defensive. Ginny smirked.

"What _about_ him?"

"Oh I don't know … I just saw you watching him today."

Hermione spluttered. "I watched him today because I had to disarm him! He was my partner!"

"Of course."

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. "All right, all right, I'll drop it."

Ginny nodded. "Good. I'm with Michael. I fancy Michael."

Hermione said good night, and Ginny watched her disappear up the girl's staircase before she opened her book and pulled out the doodle she'd been working on. Silently chiding herself, she crumpled it in a ball and shot it at a nearby waste bin.

She wasn't around long enough to see it miss, hit the wall, and bounce to the ground. A first year, later that night, was confused when he opened the paper and smoothed it out to find a rather unflattering caricature of an Asian girl in blue robes. From the corner, a roughly drawn bludger pelted the girl in the head.

**I'll stand by you **

_Let me see you through, 'cause I've seen the dark side too._

_When the night falls on you, you don't know what to do,_

_Nothing you confess could make me love you less,_

_I'll stand by you._

_-the Pretenders_

Ginny was furious. The holidays, already, had been horrible. It started off when Ginny, about to nip down to the common room for a nice read by the fire had instead stumbled upon a rather loud conversation about Harry and Cho. Snogging.

That, however, was infinitesimal compared to her dad's attack. It took a lifetime for them to tell her and her brothers and Harry any more information than they already knew from Harry. It was the longest night of her life, but she felt much better after visiting him, even if it had been awful to see her dad lying, so small, in a hospital bed.

However, everything changed after they used an extendable ear and hear Moody's suspicions of Harry. Harry had taken to ignoring them all in lieu of Buckbeak's room since then. Molly insisted to the rest of them that he needed space after seeing Arthur's attack. She was unaware that he had heard Moody speculate that he was possessed by Voldemort, which was probably the cause of all of his voluntary isolation.

Regardless, Ginny was fed up. How dare he ignore _her_ of all people, the one at Grimmauld Place that had, indeed, been possessed by Voldemort?

When Hermione arrived, Ginny and Ron decided she was the best one for the job of coercing Harry out of the room. It would be a surprise for him to see her – enough, possibly, to get Harry to open the door. Ginny and Ron waited in Harry's bedroom. They said nothing as he and Hermione walked in and Hermione launched into an explanation.

"Ron and Ginny say you've been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo's."

"They do, do they?" Harry shot them a glare, and Ginny bristled.

"Well, you have! And you won't look at any of us!"

"It's you lot who won't look at me!"

Ginny rolled her eyes just as Hermione quipped, "Maybe you're taking it in turns to look and keep missing each other."

Ginny couldn't resist a smirk, but Harry turned away and muttered, "Very funny."

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a look.

"Oh, stop feeling all misunderstood. Look, the others have told me what you overheard last night on the Extendable Ears –"

"Yeah? All been talking about me, have you? Well, I'm getting used to it…"

Ginny was fuming. "We wanted to talk _to you_, Harry, but as you've been hiding ever since we got back –"

"I didn't want anyone to talk to me!"

He still wouldn't face them, and Ginny was done with it all.

"Well that's a bit stupid of you seeing as you don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels."

Harry said nothing, still facing the wall.

He turned around with something that looked a lot like shame in his eyes. "I forgot."

"Lucky you."

"I'm sorry"

She nodded her head, an acceptance.

"So … so do you think I'm being possessed, then?"

"Well, can you remember everything you've been doing? Are there big blank periods where you don't know what you've been up to?"

He thought about this. "No."

"Then You-Know-Who hasn't ever possessed you. When he did it to me, I couldn't remember what I'd been doing for hours at a time. I'd find myself somewhere and not know how I got there."

He looked noticeably relieved. He, Ron and Hermione kept talking about it, but Ginny withdrew into her thoughts. Harry had gone through so much the last year. He wasn't the infallible hero of her dreams – he was real, flawed, emotional Harry and he didn't need a girl pining after him. He needed a real friend who understood what he was going through. Ginny loved him – she hated to admit it, but it was the truth. She didn't know if she could call herself _in_ love with him, but it didn't matter. She loved him enough as a friend. He needed her, and if, for now, all he wanted from her was her insight and support, it was his.

She resolved to put her own emotions aside – not just for her sake, but for his.

Months later found Ginny searching out Harry in the library, a torn up package of chocolate Easter eggs clutched in her hand. Ron sent it with her to give to Harry. She gave his to him – the Fizzing Whizbee, Quidditch egg and hoped the snitches wouldn't be salt in the wound of him not being able to play anymore.

Surprised, she saw his eyes get rather wet.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He was still on the verge of tears. Thinking it must have something to do with him and Cho's recent parting of ways, Ginny tried, "You seem really down lately. You know, I'm sure if you just _talked_ to Cho…"

"It's not Cho I want to talk to."

This filled Ginny with something suspiciously close to relief. "Who is it, then?"

"I … I wish I could talk to Sirius. But I know I can't."

Ginny thought about this. She thought about Umbridge and how much she detested the old hag. She thought of the number of pranks she'd pulled with Fred and George and the lengths they had taught her to go to in order to attain a desired result. Not to mention, she needed a distraction from her recent split with Michael.

"Well, if you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it…"

"Come on – with Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?"

"The thing about growing up with Fred and George is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."

Harry stared at her, and the look that passed between them made her feel emotions she'd forced down since Christmas.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

"Oh damn, I forgot –"

They jumped to their feet, laughing and squealing as their school supplies chased them from the library as Madame Pince shouted behind them.

As promised, Ginny only had to get Fred and George on board to successfully pull off the time Harry needed to speak with Sirius. He thanked her later, and, to her pleasure, she didn't even blush.

"What are friends for?" she said instead, and his grin was enough for it to all have been worth it. (Even if the end result was Fred and George leaving the school and she missed them desperately.)

Near the end of term, Ginny walked with Luna down a first floor corridor.

"IF YOU THINK I'M JUST GOING TO ACT LIKE I HAVEN'T SEEN…"

"Isn't that Harry?" Luna asked pleasantly.

Ginny sighed. "I'm afraid so."

They walked down a few more doors until they got to the room the shouting came from. Ginny pushed open the door.

"Hi. We recognized Harry's voice. What are you yelling about?"

"Never you mind."

Ginny recoiled. "There's no need to take that tone with me. I was only wondering whether I could help."

"Well, you can't."

"You're being rather rude, you know."

Ginny nodded along with Luna's words.

Harry glared at them both. He swore and turned away.

Worried now, Ginny sent an entreating glance to Hermione, who shrugged. Then, her face took on a new, thoughtful expression.

"Wait – wait, Harry, they _can_ help. Listen. Harry, we need to establish whether Sirius really has left headquarters –"

Ginny frowned, confused, as Harry interjected, "I've told you, I saw –"

"Harry, I'm begging you, please! Please let's just check that Sirius isn't at home before we go charging off to London – if we find out he's not there then I swear I won't try and stop you, I'll come, I'll d-do whatever it takes to try and save him –"

"Sirius is being tortured NOW! We haven't got time to waste!"

Ginny's mouth fell open in horror.

"But if this is a trick of V-Voldemort's – Harry, we've got to check, we've got to."

"How? How're we going to check?"

"We'll have to use Umbridge's fire and see if we can contact him. We'll draw Umbridge away again, but we'll need lookouts, and that's where we can use Ginny and Luna."

They all turned to look at Ginny and Luna, the former of whom said without hesitation, "Yeah, we'll do it."

What felt like ages later, Harry was still being just as thick headed.

"You're not involved in this, you're not –"

"Of _course_ we're coming, you're being stupid!" Ginny exclaimed, over Neville and Luna's protests.

"Okay, fine, it's your choice. But unless we can find more thestrals you're not going to be able –"

"Oh, more of them will come."

"What makes you think that?"

Ginny was getting rather tired of that tone.

"Because in case you hadn't noticed, you and Hermione are both covered in blood and we know Hagrid lures thestrals with raw meat, so that's probably why these two turned up in the first place."

By the time their argument was over, there were (according to Luna, as Ginny couldn't see them) eight thestrals.

"All right. Pick one and get on, then!"

Ginny never regretted her decision – not when she stumbled, quite ill, off the invisible creature at the ministry. Not when Bellatrix Lestrange threatened to torture her and the rest of them closed around her, nor when a death eater's firm grasp snapped the bone in her ankle. She didn't regret it as terror and pain pulsed through her veins more than she'd ever felt before. She didn't regret it when an enchanted brain-like substance grew around Ron's face and neck, or when the pain of lunging towards him made her collapse once more on the floor.

"Harry it'll suffocate him!" she screamed, and then it didn't matter whether she regretted it or not, for everything went black.

When she awoke, she lay in a hospital bed. She sat bolt upright. "Ginny!"

Neville sat on a chair between her and another occupied bed – Hermione's, she saw. On Hermione's other side was Ron.

"Neville, what's happened – tell me everything … how are we…?"

Luna stirred on a bed across from Ginny.

"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked, fearing the worst.

"Erm … I've been told he's talking to Dumbledore. He's all right, so are Ron and Hermione and Luna. Everyone is … mostly." His voice was small.

Ginny's eyes widened. "_Mostly_?"

Neville's eyes filled with tears. "I – I've only just heard."

"Neville!"

"Sirius … he …"

Ginny felt a forceful knot in her chest, pushing its way to her throat. She bolted off the bed – her ankle felt quite well now – and rushed to the door.

"Where – where are you going?"

"To find Harry."

She shoved through the door without another word.

Luckily for Ginny, she knew where Dumbledore's office was due to the fact that, during her second year, Dumbledore met with her several times to check up on her. He was the only person she'd wanted to talk to, then, about what had happened the previous year with Riddle's diary, and he always offered her toffee.

Now, her feet led her there without thought. She passed several people on their way to breakfast and wondered that it had been all night.

"Ginny!"

She looked around and saw Dean Thomas jogging towards her. The attractive fifth year looked nervous.

"What? I'm sorry, Dean, I'm in a bit of a rush."

"Oh, right, of course – I just … is everyone okay? Are _you_ okay?"

Ginny's expression softened. He was clearly anxious.

"We're all fine – me, Neville, Ron, Hermione, Luna and Harry."

He nodded. "I'm glad he let some members of the D.A. go with him, at least."

She smiled. "It was like pulling teeth, but yeah, he did."

He grinned. "That's a muggle phrase!"

Ginny laughed – she'd forgotten that she'd picked that up from Hermione - that it wasn't normal among wizards and witches. She also remembered that Dean was muggle-born.

"Yes – I'd forgotten. Well, like I said, I'll see you later; I have to find Harry."

He nodded and squeezed her arm. She watched him walk away for a moment before she spun back on her heel and towards the Headmaster's office once more.

She rounded the last corridor just as Harry stepped away from the stone gargoyle. He looked thoroughly defeated – numb, pale – it was enough for her tears to overflow.

"You're all right," he said without feeling. "Is everyone else –"

But he didn't get to finish, as she walked forward and threw her arms around him. She felt some of his weight give as he leaned into her.

"We're all fine," she whispered, her voice cracking, and his arms clutched her like a life line. After several long moments of silence, he pulled away and cleared his throat.

"Where are … I mean, are they all…?"

"Hospital wing. I've just left there."

He glanced down at her ankle. "You were really brave, Ginny."

She shook her head. "It wasn't about bravery, really. It was a given that I'd – that _we'd_ – follow you. Never a question."

He shot her a look of gratitude and, together, they set off to the hospital wing.


	6. Fifteen

**Kick Drum heart**

_We're walkin' in to the fields._

_We're walkin in to the forest._

_The moon is before us - up above_

_We're holdin' hands in the rain_

_S-sayin' words like I love you_

_D-d-d'you love me?_

_-Avett Brothers_

Ginny wanted to take things slowly with Dean – she didn't want to hurt him and she didn't want to pull another Michael – still thinking about Harry even as she was with him. However, at the tail end of her fourth year, she and Dean spent a great deal of time together. It had only been a matter of weeks since everything had happened at the Ministry, but he made an effort to check up on her each day following, and the short check ins turned into walks on the grounds and deep talks about their fears surrounding You-know-who's return. And when it turned into something romantic, it didn't feel rushed at all.

She liked Dean a great deal more than she'd liked Michael – Michael, while he had been witty and entertaining, never seemed to care to talk about anything on a deeper level. Not to mention, while Michael was kind, Dean was truly a gentleman. He was considerate and always asked her opinion.

That was the problem. Last summer, when things with Harry began to change, Ginny felt guilty that she was with Michael. She felt infinitely guiltier, now that she liked Dean so much more than she liked Michael, because things with Harry had changed even more as well.

"What am I doing?" she asked Hermione one night at the Burrow.

Hermione rolled over on her cot. "Worried about Dean, again?"

"Yes."

"Do you fancy him?"

"Yes – very much."

"Have you told him you love him?"

Ginny blanched. "No!"

"Well, I don't see a problem. I mean, Harry's been in the back of your mind for so long. I think by now it's just a habit. Give it enough time with Dean and you'll move on."

This made perfect sense. "You know, I reckon you're right. Harry's just a bad habit." She told herself this firmly, but couldn't shake the feeling that she was lying.

However, Dean really did make it easier than Michael ever did to pretend she only thought of Harry as a brother (of course, that was the reason her heart gave a funny leap whenever he looked her way or laughed at something she said – he was like a brother). Ginny couldn't help noticing how fit Dean was – especially, she thought, while he was atop a broom at Quidditch tryouts. He caught her looking at one point, and sent her a roguish wink. Not to mention, she would not easily forget how, long before they were ever a couple, when her dad was attacked the previous year, Dean had asked her how he was. She always appreciated how readily he believed Harry that Dumbledore was back and how easily he spoke for the right.

She was reminiscing about this after one practice later in the season when Ginny turned around at the sound of her name.

"Ready for the Slytherin match?" Harry asked her, out of breath from hurrying to catch up to her.

"Yes – I reckon so."

He nodded, looking supremely uncomfortable. "Oh. Good."

"Yeah … where's Ron?"

Harry looked around. "Oh, he wanted a long shower."

"Ah – he's a nervous wreck. If he'd drop the obsession with what everyone else thinks, he'd stop making a prat of himself."

Harry looked relieved – Ron was an easy enough topic. "Yeah – I need him to pretend like there's no one in the stands. It's the only way he can play his best."

"Yeah – well, good luck with that. He's your problem now, _Captain_."

Harry laughed, and she told him she was off to the library to study. She was relieved when Dean showed up a minute later – he provided a nice distraction from the funny feeling that Harry's behavior had planted in her stomach.

Then, when they did beat Slytherin, after Ginny plowed head long into Zacharias Smith in the commentator box (she did not regret this in the slightest.) Harry embraced her, but the look he gave her was leagues different than any before, and he released her almost immediately.

Still, she was happy with Dean. True, he could be overbearing at times – a little _too_ chivalrous, mind, and she didn't much like his relationship with Seamus. It wasn't that Seamus was awful, but she wouldn't easily forget how quickly he had turned on Harry at the beginning of last year, or how sore of a loser he was when he didn't make a spot on the team. At least Dean had taken it graciously, even insisted that Ginny deserved it much more than he did.

However, when the Hufflepuff match ended with Harry in the hospital wing and she heard Dean laughing with Seamus about how stupid Harry looked tumbling from his broom after McLaggen smacked him with the bat, she was furious.

It was their first big row, and his argument centered around her care for Harry Potter.

"Don't be daft, Dean, of course I care about him a lot – he's like my older brother, he's always been around. And he's also the Quidditch Captain so I see him a fair amount –"

Dean scoffed. "I've seen you look at him! And it's no secret you fancied Harry for years."

"You can't really hold a childhood crush over my head!" she said as though there was no validity to his claim.

"I wouldn't dream of it if I thought you were over him!"

Ginny sighed. "If my word's not enough for you – if the fact that I'm _with you_ isn't enough, then there's nothing I can do to convince you otherwise."

The next month, things only got worse. Dean, who was as insecure about Ginny and Harry's relationship as ever was not only moody, but clingy. Ginny had no patience for it – every superfluous touch irked her more than was rational, and she found it harder than ever to stamp out dangerous thoughts about Harry.

When they finally split near the end of April, Ginny felt a strong mixture of guilt and relief. She felt guilty because Dean's suspicions about she and Harry were not entirely off base and she knew it. She felt relieved for the same reason – Dean deserved to be with someone who was wholly interested in him. Not to mention, it made a nice change, especially so close to her O.W.L.'s, to have some breathing room.

Quidditch practices became her favorite part of the week – Katie Bell finally recovered, so Dean didn't need to play chaser anymore, which left Ginny free to talk to Harry like she hadn't been able to in months. Her guilt piqued when she realized that, even at the height of her affection for Dean, she'd never enjoyed being with him romantically half as much as she enjoyed being with Harry just as friends.

"You guys are doing loads better," Harry told the beaters, Coote and Peaks one practice.

"Yeah – neither of you has smacked anyone on _our_ team with your bats, yet, which is great," Ginny smirked, and the team laughed at her reference to Cormac McLaggen's idiocy earlier in the season.

Her breath caught in her chest, however, when she noticed Harry staring at her with that same, strange look that made her insides squirm as though someone put a jelly legs jinx on them.

Moments like these increased in frequency – she sat with Harry, Ron and Hermione at meals and in the common room, studied with them, joked with them, and walked back from the Quidditch pitch with Ron and Harry. She would have liked to see Harry alone once in a while – she needed a better feel for what was going on in his head – but she couldn't complain as she still spent more time with him now than she ever had.

The night before their final game against Ravenclaw, Ginny was in low spirits like the rest of Gryffindor team. Harry's ban from the game – which meant her reinstated role as seeker and Dean's as chaser – didn't instill confidence in anyone.

"You're an excellent seeker," Harry told her the day of their last practice, and Ginny flushed.

"You're better."

He shrugged. "Skill doesn't do anyone much good when they keep getting tossed in detention during matches."

Ginny shrugged. "Well we all know it's lousier for you than for any of us."

She could tell that he appreciated this. And the next day, when she caught the snitch an inch away from Cho Chang's outstretched hand, her heart soared with triumph.

It seemed like ages into the Gryffindor tower celebrations that she heard Ron's booming, "We won! We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!"

She whipped around and there was Harry.

With a giant grin, she ran at him, spurred forward by her euphoria at the win, her relief that his detention was over, that he finally knew that all was not lost – they'd seized a victory for Gryffindor.

She reached him in three strides – his arms were half open in anticipation of her embrace, she reached up for a hug –

Her heart, brain and all other bodily functions seemed to halt in their progress.

Harry couldn't be – but he was – he…

Her eyes fluttered shut, her mouth opened out of instinct, and her arms pulled him closer than she ever thought possible outside of her wildest, sweetest dreams.

Harry Potter was running one hand through her hair.

Harry Potter was using the other to cradle her face.

Harry Potter's chest was flush against her own.

Harry Potter's mouth beneath hers couldn't seem to suppress a smile.

And she would never forget a bit of it as long as she lived because it wasn't every day that Harry Potter snogged her, Ginny Weasley.

When he pulled away, Ginny didn't open her eyes for one long, delicious moment. Then she heard whistles, whispers and giggles and, spell broken, she looked up at Harry. He looked behind her for a moment, but she had no interest in anyone else. She couldn't seem to glance away from him for even a moment, suspended as she was in such a state of bliss and shock and that strange sensation in her gut. He looked down at her with a smile brighter than she'd seen in years, and shrugged towards the portrait hole.

Alone time with Harry – she met his grin with a wide one of her own and led the way out of the common room, away from the crowds.

One perfect week later, Ginny found herself nodding off in the library over a sickeningly tall stack of books. She didn't fight long – she finally fell asleep with her face stuck to her copy of the Standard Book of Spells grade five.

An unpleasant wizard who bore a startling resemblance to Snape stood above her, demanding that she cast the perfect unlocking spell for her O.W. L. examination.

_But that's simple – I've known how to do that for ages._

She confidently reached for her wand but, with horror, realized she didn't have it.

"Please, sir, I have to go back for it."

"No. Ginny, you must perform it now."

_Are we on a first name basis?_

"Ginny. Ginny? Gin?"

_Do I know you?_

"Ginny!"

Unhappily, she slowly opened her eyes. Harry smirked at her from his seat beside her.

"What time is it?" she mumbled, leaning forward for a hello kiss.

Hello, unsurprisingly, turned into quite the lengthy greeting as their kiss continued until she was nearly sitting in his lap.

He only pulled away when her stomach gave a great groan of protest.

"Mm," she sighed, and she thought his dreamy expression probably mirrored her own. "Did I miss lunch?"

He nodded.

"Damn." She was ravenous.

He held up a sack, and she grinned when he pulled out three turkey sandwiches and an entire bottle of pumpkin juice.

"Excellent – I think I'll keep you around."

She ate at record speed, not wanting to waste any of the already limited time she had to spend with Harry.

"What day is it – Merlin, am I on break or should I be heading to the greenhouses?"

He laughed at her. "You're on break – and I have a free period."

She relaxed, and allowed herself a bit more time to finish the juice. She took a long swig and then offered it to Harry, who drank straight from the bottle after her.

"Good. If _only_ I had something to do to fill all this extra time."

She winked, and she was pleased to see Harry flush and grin.

"Well, I can't imagine you'd want to join me, but I fancied a walk around the grounds."

"Hm … I suppose … if no better option comes along."

He laughed and waved his wand so that her books flew neatly inside her bag. She took it from him, stood, and then extended a hand to pull him up. He took it, and yanked hard, so that she fell forward and nearly crashed them both backwards and onto the floor.

"Harry, you great prat!" she laughed, and stomped away in mock indignation, leaving him, most willingly, to catch up.

The next few weeks passed by in the same, blissful sort of pattern. Each day's time spent with Harry carried her through the intense work loads of her O.W.L. year. One day at the beginning of June, she nearly collided with Malfoy on her way from Herbology to Care of Magical Creatures.

Malfoy, who looked even paler than usual, glared. "You filthy little blood traitor!"

"Shut up, you foul wanker," she snarled, wand raised.

He smirked. "I'd rather be a foul wanker than Potter's whore."

Ginny's perfected bat bogey hex was on the tip of her tongue, but just then, Hagrid spoke from behind her.

"Twenty points from Slytherin, Malfoy, and it'll be a week's worth o' detention if I hear yeh using language like tha' again."

Malfoy looked positively livid, but there was little he could do. "You're lucky your friend showed up," he muttered to Ginny as he passed. She scoffed and muttered under her breath, "_You're_ lucky he showed up – one minute later and he'd have been scraping your sorry remains off the ground."

He tried to look like what she'd said was ludicrous, but she knew that he had personal experience with her skill as a dueler. He shot her one last sneer and was gone just before Harry emerged from Hagrid's hut.

"Hey," he grinned, "Fancy seeing you here."

He knew, of course, that she had lessons this time, which was the reason he chose this hour for tea with Hagrid.

Hagrid walked over and looked knowingly between the two of them.

"Yeh know, Miss Weasley," he said with a false air of formality, "I reckon that Malfoy's put yeh through enough o' an ordeal – yeh better take this period off."

Ginny laughed and winked. "I suppose you're right – it _was_ rather shocking."

"Get on then, the both o' yeh."

Hagrid shooed them away with his enormous hands.

Ginny looked over at Harry and expected him to be as gleeful as she was at this unexpected turn of events. He, however, looked angry.

"What did he mean, Malfoy's put you through an ordeal?"

She sighed – she did not want to feed his growing obsession over what Malfoy was up to. "Just the usual, honestly. He's lucky Hagrid was there or I would have hexed him to oblivion."  
>Harry offered a feeble smile at this, but still looked worried.<p>

"Come on, Harry – we have an hour before I have to head back to the school for Transfiguration and you have Potions. Let's just enjoy it."

He still looked reluctant, but he threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her towards the edge of the lake – their favorite spot on the grounds.

"Reckon that's a storm coming?" she asked awhile later. She was positioned between Harry's legs, her back against his chest. His chin rested on her shoulder.

"Hm…?"

She elbowed Harry awake, and he opened his bleary eyes. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you thought a storm's coming in."

Harry looked up and frowned. "Yeah – and those clouds are moving quickly. Maybe we should head inside."

Ginny, who was ardently fond of the rain, hopped up with excitement.

"Don't be ridiculous!" she watched as the grey clouds rolled closer. As predicted, it took only a minute or two before they felt the first drop. And then it was a downpour.

She beamed. Ginny didn't think twice – like she and her brothers had done since childhood, she removed her shoes, yanked off her stockings and shrugged out of the outer layer of her robes. She was now in only her blouse, tie and skirt. Eagerly, she spun around, only to find that Harry had not joined her. As a matter of fact, he had scarcely moved at all – his jaw had gone slack as he stared at her from the ground with an expression that took her breath away.

She flushed a deep red, and, seeming to regain coherence, so did Harry. She suspected his blush was not nearly as prominent as hers, however.

"I – I've always liked the rain," she offered weakly.

Harry finally stood and, ignoring the rain still pelting his face and glasses, stepped forward, took her hand, and used it to tug her towards him. "Me too," he said firmly, and he kissed her slowly at first, and then more urgently, all the way until the storm subsided and break was over.

She sighed when it came time to bid him goodbye, but grinned broadly to notice his regretful gaze as she pulled her robes back on.

Later on the same week, Ginny fell asleep waiting for Harry in his empty dormitory. They didn't get much time together, but during the day, the boys' dormitory stayed fairly empty, so they often used it to study together or nap. At first, she slept in Ron's bed, but, after Harry let slip that Scabbers – Pettigrew, she corrected herself – used to sleep there too, she just crawled under the covers next to Harry. He offered no complaints about this new arrangement.

When she woke up that day, Harry was next to her, glasses askew, snoring softly. She smiled – the perpetual creases in his forehead were gone, and he looked years younger. Even asleep, this was rare for him. She knew that his sleep was hardly ever restful. However, she was pleased to note that he hadn't had a nightmare once while she slept beside him with his arms fitted securely around her.

"I love you too much," she whispered, pulled his glasses from his face, set them on his bedside table, and drifted back to sleep in moments.

**Holes Inside**

_I can see it in your face, the hope has gone away._

_If you hold tight, shadows will be lost in the light._

'_Cause sometimes, fate and your dreams will collide._

_So don't walk away from me._

_Don't walk away from me._

_-Joe Brooks_

Ginny was exhausted and terrified, in pain and unable to think straight. Trembling, she watched Lupin and Tonks conjure a stretcher and rush Bill – strong, untouchable Bill – towards the hospital wing.

"Everyone, meet there!" Professor McGonagall cried to those that remained in the astronomy tower. Ron rushed after Bill, as did most the others, but Ginny had seen Harry disappear the opposite direction – she spun on her heel, determined to follow him.

"Miss Weasley!" McGonagall barked firmly, and Ginny was ready to use magic if she must to find Harry.

"I have to go after him."

"Of course you do – I will follow you to the grounds – we must find Potter. I'll send an owl to your parents."

Ginny nodded, grateful beyond word that McGonagall would not try to stop her. Fearing the worst, she sprinted to the entrance hall, out to the grounds. She looked around wildly and saw a crowd – she thought with a sickening jolt of more fighting, Harry in the thick of it, but realized a moment later that the crowd was comprised of students. Deep in the heart of it, she heard painful, familiar wails of pain.

"Hagrid?" she whispered. She ran forward, pushed through the group, heard a familiar voice…

"C'mere, Harry."

"No."

And then roaring in her ears as she finally broke free of the knot of students drowned out Harry's reply and anything else Hagrid might have said. There, lying at the base of the astronomy tower, was Albus Dumbledore.

She swayed dangerously, her last leg of strength evaporated with a final pop, and her legs gave beneath her. Professor McGonagall caught her elbow before she fell.

"So it's true," McGonagall whispered, and Ginny turned to look at the woman who she'd never thought of as old before now. "I … I went to his office – it was closer, you see, to send the owl and … and I saw …" her chin trembled. "His painting. His painting was on the wall. I … I rushed down here," she clapped a hand over her mouth and looked as though she might topple to the ground herself.

"Yeh can' stay here, Harry … Come on, now…"

"No."

Ginny and McGonagall exchanged a glance, and she could see that, in that moment, they found strength in their mutual cause – to get Harry away.

McGonagall nodded at Ginny and, determinedly, she stepped forward.

Ginny placed a hand on Hagrid's shaking shoulder to let him know that she would take it from here. She used her other hand to grab hold of Harry's clenched first.

"Harry, come on."

She tugged only slightly. Harry did not resist anymore. He stood as if in a trance – he did not even look at her. He allowed her hand to settle inside his grip, but she could tell that it was more out of apathy than anything. Still, she led him back towards the castle.

"We're going to the hospital wing," she told him quietly.

"I'm not hurt.

"It's McGonagall's orders. Everyone's up there. Ron and Hermione and Lupin and everyone –"

Harry shot her an alarmed glance and, with the voice of a much younger Harry, said, "Ginny, who else is dead?"

"Don't worry, none of us," she said quickly, but he looked desperately unconvinced.

"But the Dark Mark – Malfoy said he stepped over a body –"

Ginny felt a sickening lurch, and a hot surge of hatred for Draco Malfoy. "He stepped over Bill, but it's all right, he's alive."

"Are you sure?" Harry's voice told her that he could hear her bluff.

"Of course I'm sure … he's a – a bit of a mess, that's all. Greyback attacked him. Madam Pomfrey says he won't – won't look the same anymore…" she trailed off, for fear that the knot in her throat would push its way up.

She continued to reassure him about the others the rest of the way to the hospital wing – emotions, in both of them, were held at bay for the moment. They both knew that, in moments, they would have to face a room full of people who didn't know – who'd have to be told…

They entered the hospital wing but stayed silent for a few moments of useless discussion. And then –

"Dumbledore might know something that'd work, though. Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore owes him, he can't leave him in this state –"

He showed every sign of continuing his rant, but Ginny opened her mouth before he could say anymore words he would regret – before Harry had to be the one to stop him. "Ron – Dumbledore's dead."

"No!"

Ginny was unaware of anyone's reactions but her closest brother – for some reason, she could not bring herself to look away from his horrified stare.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of dull, numb, overwhelming grief. They spoke about so many things as if they mattered – little pretend problems to cover up the huge impossibility of their headmaster's death. Harry did not release Ginny's hand until McGonagall asked for a word with him.

In the days that followed, he rarely let her go. He almost always had his hand on her knee or around her shoulders or in her hand.

She knew instinctively that he didn't want to address any of it, so she ignored it. After her first year, all she had wanted was for everyone to pretend that she hadn't been part of any of it – like it had never happened. She was more than willing to do that for Harry now.

"I was just about to complain about Snape's O.W. L. Defense Against the Dark Arts class," she said one day, "but then I remembered that you had Umbridge that year, and thought that I'd best hush up." She was surprised when Harry laughed for the first time in days.

The only time they acknowledged everything that had happened were the twice a day visits to the hospital wing to see Bill – and, Ginny finally resigned herself, Fleur.

Harry, meanwhile, held himself aloof from her. She knew what was coming, and she dreaded it. She'd only caught hints in his conversations with others about what Dumbledore's last mission with him had been, but she knew it was secretive and she knew that, above all, Harry would do whatever it took to keep her out of it. However, she, like Harry, would rather pretend it wasn't happening, and so she did.

"It's a shame Phlegm's always at the hospital wing when we go," she said airily to Ron, Harry and Hermione one evening.

"But at least Bill didn't have to deal with his fiancée scarpering off on top of everything else," Ron said fairly.

"I suppose I'm just going to have to accept that he really is going to marry her," she said sadly.

"She's not that bad," Harry said carelessly, and she shot him a look. "Ugly, though," he added hurriedly, and shot her a wink.

She laughed out loud, partially out of amusement, partially because it was such a surprise to hear him tease again.

No jokes or facades of nonchalance, however, were enough to stop the funeral from coming. Ginny broke to watch it – she broke and wept, until she saw Harry – she saw the progression of his thoughts play so clearly out across the face she'd come to know very well, the face she'd watched since she was eleven. And when he met her gaze, her tears were gone, and they both knew. She worried that, selfish as it was, whatever Harry said in this moment might break her more than anything so far.

"Ginny, listen … I can't be involved with you anymore. We can't be together."

She did not bother with arguments, but she needed an explanation. She tried to smile, but her face seemed adamant against doing what she wished. "It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it."

It was not really a question, and he didn't answer it. "It's been like … like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you. But I can't … we can't … I've got things to do alone now."

She sensed that he was not finished and, anyway, she didn't trust herself to speak. What could she say?

"Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to. He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you're my best friend's sister. Think of how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you."

Ginny didn't know why she bothered to speak, as she knew it was futile, but she opened her mouth anyway. "What if I don't care?"

"I care! How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral … and it was my fault…"

She heard the immeasurable pain in his words, felt the stab of what could have been, and turned away from it.

She opened her mouth, unsure of what she might say, and the words tumbled out. "I never really gave up on you. Not really. I always hoped … Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more – myself."

"Smart girl, that Hermione. I just wish I'd asked you sooner. We could've had ages … months … years maybe…"

This was too tantalizing – too painful – so Ginny used the only defense she had – nonchalance. "But you've been too busy saving the wizarding world. Well … I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much." Her words, meant to be flippant, were loaded with emotion and she knew he could tell. He stared in her eyes, and she watched something deep in those pools of green snap, saw his apology in the expression he wore, before he stood up and dejectedly walked away.

The weeks at the Burrow after the order members retrieved Harry were strange, to be sure, but Ginny was also relieved. She had wondered how things would be after their talk at the funeral, and things were definitely strange, but Harry did not protest when she took his hand that night as they waited for the return of everyone else, and in the days that followed, it was obvious that he hated it as badly as she did. Several times, they stared at each other and she had no doubt that he was remembering, too, the hours and days of pure bliss they had together before everything changed.

Ginny didn't sleep the night before Harry's birthday. She ran her idea past Hermione who supported it.

"It's a lovely goodbye, Ginny, and it's a symbol of how temporary it is – you two aren't over. You just have to take separate paths for awhile."

Steeling her resolve, she asked Harry to come into her room. She told him about her difficulty in finding a present that would be convenient and possible and memorable.

"…I'd like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some vela when you're off doing whatever you're doing."

Harry did not recoil as she stepped close to him, and she saw him give a little half smile. "I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest."

"There's the silver lining I've been looking for."

She kissed him with everything in her, and she hoped he knew. She hoped he knew that if he let her, she would never have left his side. She hoped he felt how deeply she loved him – she hoped he would receive the message so forcefully that in the dark days she knew were coming for him, he would feel it again. She hoped he felt what she felt – the bliss, the sweet, sweet absence of pain and worries and care – she hoped he understood exactly what this meant to her. But even if he didn't – even if all this ever was to him was a kiss with his ex-girlfriend, she would make it the best damn kiss of his life.

CRASH.

Ginny jumped and turned to her doorway in time for Ron to say, "Oh. Sorry."

"Ron!" Hermione reached them moments too late.

"Well, happy birthday anyway, Harry."

She turned around for fear of the telltale knot of tears welling its way to the surface. Ron's interruption ended everything prematurely – they couldn't speak – she didn't even think she could manage to exchange a simple glance with Harry. She wanted to shout at Ron to get out, but knew that it was no use.

"I'll see you later," Harry told her back, and she heard the pain in his voice. She waited, wishing he would insist on staying with her. Better yet, she wished he would change is mind suddenly and allow her to accompany them on their journey.

But he did not.

He turned on his heel and walked away.


	7. Sixteen

**Photograph**

_Loving can hurt sometimes; but it's the only thing that I know. _

_When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes._

_It's the only thing that makes us feel alive._

_We keep this love in a photograph. We made these memories for ourselves._

_Where our eyes are never closing_

_Hearts are never broken_

_And time's forever frozen still_

_-Ed Sheeran_

"Shh, shh, it's all right."

Ginny knelt beside the pale first year, cradling her head. The girl's whimpering eased a little, but she didn't speak.

"What's your name?"

"E-Ellie," she whispered finally.

"That's a pretty name. Now, I know you've been through a lot just now, but I need you to stand up."

With effort, Ginny helped her to her feet.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Ellie trembled more violently than ever. "I – I was studying in the library but then I fell asleep."

Tears overflowed, but she didn't seem to notice them. "And … and I realized it was after hours, so I tried to hurry … but then…" she shook so hard that Ginny almost didn't catch her next words. "Then they – they found me."

Ginny's heart sank. "Who? Who found you?"

"Two big seventh years. I've seen them hurting others before."

Ginny was impressed to hear the note of anger that entered the girl's voice. She'd rather this girl be angry than broken.

"That'll be Crabbe and Goyle. They're evil."

"Yes – yes, they …" the girl's voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands.

"You don't have to say it," Ginny whispered. An increasingly familiar knot of revulsion twisted up her insides. She reached out and pulled Ellie into her arms. The small girl trembled and wept. Ginny thought she heard footsteps, though, so she held Ellie at arm's length. "What house are you in?"

"H-Hufflepuff."

"All right, Ellie, I'm going to perform a disillusionment charm on you and I'll walk you back."

The girl nodded. "How did you find me?"

"We patrol the corridors any chance we get – you're not the first person Crabbe and Goyle and some of the other Slytherins have terrorized and left trapped behind tapestries or in broom cupboards."

"Who's we?"

Ginny gave the girl a grim smile. "Dumbledore's Army."

The girl's eyes widened. "You're part of that?"

"You better believe it."

They made their way through the corridors and passed the kitchens. The girl showed Ginny where the common room entrance was, and Ginny quickly performed the counter spell to her disillusionment charm. Ellie stopped resembling the wall behind her.

"Thank you so much," Ellie whispered. "D'you think maybe … maybe I could join up …?"

Ginny was already shaking her head. "No – Ellie, I think it would be best if you try and keep your head down. Follow the rules. Stay safe. We're handling it."

Ellie's eyes welled with tears again. "But … but what if it never gets better?"

"It will."

"How do you know? Do you reckon … d'you reckon that Harry Potter's really going to fix it all?"

Ginny felt the same pang in her chest she experienced when anyone mentioned Harry's name – which, of course, was often. "You know, Ellie, I happen to know Harry Potter."

The girl looked appropriately amazed. "You – you _do_?"

"Yes – and I'll be the first to tell you, if there is anything Harry does, it's fix everything."

"WHO'S OUT OF BED?"

Ginny's heart plummeted. "Go, get inside," she hissed, and the girl looked terrified.

"But what about –"

"I'll be fine, get inside _now_!"

The girl disappeared without another word, just as Goyle rounded the corner.

"Weasley!"

He was blasted off his feet and into the wall behind him before he could say another word. Ginny's silent _Impedimenta_ had done the trick, and she wheeled around, already sprinting in the direction of Gryffindor tower. She did not stop until she sat in her bed, curtains drawn around her.

She waited only until her breathing evened before sitting back and pointing her wand at a shelf across the room. "Accio sweater," she said, and an overlarge, green sweater with a golden snitch embroidered on the front hurdled towards her.

The sweater, Harry's last Christmas gift from her mum, had been left at the Burrow with a few of his other belongings when he, Ron and Hermione set off last summer. After placing a permanent fragrance charm on it so that Harry's smell didn't fade, she'd slept in it every night since.

Then, as she did every night, she leaned over her bed and pulled out the only other possession of Harry's she had. A rumpled photograph she'd found on his night stand – she, Harry, Ron and Hermione from the summer before her fifth year, all grinning and clutching broomsticks. When it was first taken, Ginny and Harry stood on either end. Now, Harry and Hermione had traded places so that the tiny image of Harry stood on Ginny's right side – most of the time they gazed sappily at each other or laughed at some shared secret.

Ginny traced a finger over his mischievous face – the sparkling, emerald eyes looking down at her own, the unruly, impossible-to-flatten hair.

She thought back to the moment the photo was taken – just after one of their two-on-one matches of Quidditch. Harry and Hermione had won that one – well, Harry won. Hermione didn't do much more than hover fearfully several feet from the ground while Harry, Ginny and Ron zoomed around her. She closed her eyes and remembered it all. She remembered how Harry had complimented her flying, she remembered how heartily he laughed at her teasing Ron, she remembered the way he looked on his firebolt, happier than usual, backlit by the light of the sun. She remembered one moment of strange, confusing thrill when she caught Harry staring at her with a look she'd only ever dreamed of seeing on his face.

She looked at the photo again and smiled fondly. Picture Harry slid an arm around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. The tiny Ginny grinned and leaned further into him.

Ginny was addicted to this – the few moments of quiet each night she was able to pull out the photograph – she'd hold the image in her mind, close her eyes, and lose herself in his smell and her memories. She'd fall asleep like this, images of Harry burned clearly into her mind, and her dreams would pick up where she left off – a world full of careless days by the lake, detours between classes, sneaking behind tapestries and into empty broom cupboards. A world full of Harry – a world full of hope.

And the next morning, she'd wake up in the real world of darkness, fear and pain, and she'd be ready to face it.

**Dust to Dust**

_You've held your head up_

_You've fought the fight_

_You bear the scars_

_You've done your time_

_Listen to me_

_You've been lonely, too long_

**-**_Civil Wars_

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.

"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continue to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

Ginny, like everyone else in the great hall, stood transfixed. The moment Voldemort's voice faded, the hall filled with screams and mutters. Nothing existed in Ginny's body except dread, and yet she still managed to say fiercely, "He's bluffing."

A flood of survivors headed in the direction on the entrance hall, and she followed, Luna in tow. She elbowed her way through clusters of people, and felt a sickening blow as she heard a horrible, feral wail from someone already at the front of the crowd.

Moments later, "No! _No!_"

She finally broke through, and the scene before her was an utter impossibility – the most horrific image of any today – "Harry!" she shouted, and she fell to her knees because the boy before her was dead. But she could not accept it. He couldn't be. "HARRY!"

He did not respond, and great, heaving sobs shook her frame. Horror like she'd never known constricted her heart and lungs – she couldn't breathe or move.

Chaos ensued – Neville's bravery, and then the battle broke out once more. She fought with a fierce, fiery determination that she'd never known before, and it was as though she knew every move her attackers would make before they did. Others that she saw on the good side seemed to have been instilled with this same, bolstering force, and teachers and students alike brought down death eaters on all sides. Harry, even in death, had given them all the strength they needed to resist once more – she nearly collapsed with her grief at the thought of him – but saw Bellatrix's wand pointed directly at Hermione's heart, and rushed forward, wand raised.

"STUPEFY!" she shrieked, and missed her target by several feet. She'd achieved the desired effect, however, as Bellatrix fixed her livid stare and her wand on Ginny's face.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione screamed, and Bellatrix was forced to turn her attention. Ginny darted forward, and Luna followed, all of them shouting curses at the witch before them. Even as they fought, side stepping and retaliating to the best of their ability, Ginny could feel how useless their efforts were. Bellatrix easily exceeded them in power and agility.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

In spite of herself, Ginny spun around at the sound of her mother's voice. She looked quite demented as she freed her arms and raised her wand.

"OUT OF MY WAY!"

She shoved Hermione, Ginny and Luna bodily from her path and began to duel with Bellatrix with skill that Ginny had never before seen from her mum. Still, shaking herself out of her shock, she rushed forward.

"No! Get back! _Get back!_ She is mine!"

They dueled with incredible speed – their wands slashed so rapidly through the air that it would have been foolish for anyone from either side to try and intervene. Ginny gazed, horrified and yet blazingly proud of her mum.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you? When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

"You – will – never – touch – our – children – again!"

A blast of purple flames seemed to explode from Molly's wand – it collided with Bellatrix's chest and, with a gasp of shock, she crumpled to the ground.

"NOOOO!" the screech was high and terrible, and they all turned as those fighting Voldemort were blasted away, and he directed his wand to Molly with the speed of a snake.

"PROTEGO!"

Ginny barely had time to register confusion at the familiar voice – for a moment later, Harry appeared in the middle of the hall, standing, and very much alive.

"HARRY!" she shrieked, and tears of pure joy and relief sprung to her eyes. However, she said nothing more in the oppressive silence that followed.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help. It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

In that moment, Ginny knew without hesitation that he was right. And it terrified her.

Harry and Voldemort circled each other, and Harry spoke with majesty that commanded their rapt attention: instilled their deepest confidence. As he explained everything to Voldemort and, by default, the watching crowd, she knew that she was not the only one mesmerized as he dropped bomb after bomb of information, shocking truths that no one doubted because Harry spoke them with such powerful finality.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it? Does the wand in your hand know its last master was disarmed? Because if it does … I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

Ginny's jaw dropped. She saw Voldemort raise his wand and point it at Harry. She wanted to rush forward, but some unknowable force stopped her.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The force of it shook the hall and their ear drums – a burst of golden light shot towards Voldemort, hit him, and then he smacked into the floor, unmoving.

No one moved for a split second, and then everyone was cheering and laughing and sobbing and Ron and Hermione had broken free of the crowd and sprinted towards Harry with tear tracks running down their faces. Ginny, Luna and Neville were close on their heels. When she reached him, Ginny threw her arms around his neck and reveled in how solid he felt. However, she was quickly pushed aside by the hundreds more who wanted a chance to touch Harry Potter, their savior, vanquisher of Lord Voldemort.

Ginny remembered very little of the hours that followed. She was lost in a haze of repairs, comforting words, healing wounds and pure, overwhelming exhaustion. She stayed close to her family, but watched Harry from a distance. He was surrounded by people with adoration in their eyes, but it was painfully obvious to her that he felt more isolated than they would ever understand. She wished she could go up and talk to him, to hold him, to pull him away from the crowds, but was afraid she would only make it worse.

By late afternoon, she could barely handle the crowds anymore.

"Mum I'm … I'm going to help…" she didn't bother finishing. Her mum was already nodding, a glazed look in her bloodshot eyes. Ginny pressed a kiss to her cheek and then all but ran from the room.

She inhaled deeply in the entrance hall. She sidestepped several weeping knots of people and wondered where she could go. She wondered if the common room might be clear – her dormitory, at the very least.

She reached the portrait and sighed to see it empty.

"Here you are, dear," said the tired voice of Violet, one of the fat lady's old friends. She walked into the fat lady's portrait and swung forward so Ginny could enter.

She was relieved to see that the common room was vacant. She walked over to start a fire, and then spun around at the sound of a noise behind her. Harry stood at the base of the boys' dormitory stairs. He looked trapped.

Ginny appraised him boldly – his shoulders were slumped, his eyes were ages older than she remembered, and there were apologies in every line of his stooped frame. He opened his mouth, she presumed, to voice them all, but she shook her head, and he closed it again.

He broke her gaze to stare at his feet, and it acted as a sort of catalyst. How dare he act bashful? She didn't want his shame – she wanted him. And she needed him to know.

Hesitance gone, she took three strides forward, and threw her arms around him. Harry froze – she felt his arms stiffen – and wondered how long it had been since anyone had held him. Then, as though recovering from being stupefied, his arms constricted so tightly around her it felt as though he may never let her go again. She hoped as much.

Harry buried his face in her neck and he inhaled a great, shuddering breath. She felt something in herself begin to repair – her shattered insides felt for a moment as though they had a hope of becoming whole again. Warmth – intoxicating, glorious warmth, spread from the places his arms touched her body, up through her chest, down to her toes.

One of his hands clutched her hair, one of them held her waist against his stomach. After an endless stretch of time and perfect silence, she pulled away slightly so that their foreheads touched, and his hand moved to cradle her face. She stared into his wet eyes.

He opened his mouth, and Ginny wondered what he'd say – would he try to apologize again? Tell her they still couldn't be together – that he had some other mission? Would he ask her to leave?

"You're alive."

She smiled sadly. "_We're _alive."

They leaned in simultaneously, and it was a kiss very different than any they'd shared previously. This was a kiss with nothing – not Ron, Harry's doubts, Voldemort, Cho, Michael, Dean – _nothing_ to stand in the way. The future was as open as they wanted it to be, and he kissed her accordingly – without reservation.

He held her hair, her waist, her face, her hands, and she kissed him hard, held him closer, stumbled backward until her back was against the wall, then his, then hers again.

They pulled apart to catch their breath, and Ginny couldn't help but smile.

"Well. That's settled, then."

Harry laughed. "Yeah … I mean – er – if that's all right."

"It's all right."

He looked immensely relieved.

"Did you expect me to say no?" she asked, curious.

"I – well, no, I suppose not. I just … I reckoned you'd be angry."

She sighed. She was angry. So angry that it pulsed through her blood and threatened to consume her if she thought about it for too long.

"I am," she said truthfully, and his face fell. "But not at you. I'm angry _for_ you. I'm angry that it had to be you. I'm angry that it couldn't be me, too. I'm angry …" she paused and blinked rather quickly. "I'm angry that it had to be Fred. I'm angry that we missed _so much_ time and I'm angry that I didn't get to personally string up and hex apart every bleeding death eater that ever _touched_ the people I care about. But I'm not angry with you."

He sighed. "You could be."

"Maybe. But what good would that do? I want to be _with_ you. Not _angry _with you."

He smiled. "I want to be with you, too."

She exhaled and nodded. "Good."

And then he held out his hand. She took it, and followed him out the portrait hole, back to the grand staircase, and into the great hall where, ignoring the pointed stares, the outbreak of muttering and pointing at the sight of their entwined hands, they confronted the day together.


End file.
